


34 Sycamore Street

by TheIndigoDragonfly



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Anime Artist! Sehyoon, Cafe owner! Donghun, Catfishing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Exploration of sexual identity/gender identity, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/referenced homophobia/demiphobia, Late-night cafe, Lo-fi, M/M, Moderate Sexual Content, Polyamorous Relationships, Referenced Anxiety, References to Sex Work, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Teacher! Yuchan, Video game developer! Byeongkwan, coffee shop AU, crushes and pining, revenge porn, super sweet moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28917342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIndigoDragonfly/pseuds/TheIndigoDragonfly
Summary: There’s a place where people go on quiet, rainy nights in Seoul. The people who have always been a little different, the people with a different story to tell. It’s a quiet sort of place, with its dim amber lights and Japanese lo-fi that somehow brings out the darker notes of the coffee served there. Those who know the place know Donghun, the café owner coloured by tattoos and an aura that makes people keep coming back, with their stories, to 34 Sycamore Street…
Relationships: Kim Byeongkwan/Kim Sehyoon | Wow, Lee Donghun/Park Junhee | Jun
Comments: 149
Kudos: 92





	1. Double Espresso

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thank you for finding my fic! Please familiarise yourself with the tags and rating; these are subject to be changed or added to up until completion. Please note that this is a mature fic with adult themes explored from the offset, so please do make sure you are comfortable before proceeding!_
> 
> _Like any Ao3 writer, there's no way to cover every possible tag for every possible reader. Thank you for understanding! If you have a phobia or trigger you would like to ask about prior to reading any of my stories, please feel free to message me and I will more than happily give you a heads up!_
> 
> _I hope you enjoy reading!_

Everybody has a story.

From the day they’re born – even before that – each human being starts to weave their own narrative. Where they are from, what they enjoy, what they strive for. The friendships they make, the hearts they break, the love they find, and lose, and rediscover. Underachieving, overachieving, letting dreams die only to find new passions. It’s in the places they explore, the homes they build, and the seeds they sow in the cracks of the souls of people they meet. In every set of footsteps on earth, there is a story.

Donghun glanced up over the counter as the tinkle of a bell announced someone’s entrance. He smiled, straightening up and depositing the cleaning cloth to one side. The customer, however, arrived with quite the flounce. A scowl was scribbled over their features as they tossed down their backpack on a stool and sat on another with a huff. Their hair was green today – was that the third change this month?

Donghun smiled again, tucking his long blonde hair behind his ears.

Everybody has a story. And it just so happened that this was the kind of place that attracted those whose story was complicated, or sad, or just plain _different_.

“Hey, Makoto. Is everything okay?”

Makoto looked up from beneath their tangle of neon hair. The scowl eased a little, but there was frustration in those dark eyes today.

“Pissed off,” they grumbled by way of explanation. Donghun went back to polishing glasses, and waited. Just as he thought, it didn’t take long for Makoto to continue on their own accord. “Do you know how annoying it is that everyone thinks my entire country is just sushi and tentacle sex?!”

Donghun blinked. Well, that was a new one.

“What happened?” he asked gently, watching as Makoto looked away. They were a regular – most customers were, in reality; those that came tended to make a habit of it – and Donghun normally caught their cheerful side.

Makoto sighed, and with it, breathed away the anger into something much sadder. “Nothing _happened_. I just… saw some stuff on Twitter. The hashtag for ‘Japanese’ had an eighteen-plus sign next to it. A hashtag for a whole nationality, explicit! But all the people posting aren’t even Japanese. It’s just people posting about what they think is _hentai –_ which is usually wrong, by the way - and white girls doing _ahegao_.” Makoto stuck out their tongue and pulled an exaggerated eyeroll. Donghun’s eyebrows rose higher. “It just bums me out, y’know? We’ve got traditions going back millennia, some of the most beautiful landscapes in the world, a bunch of dope street fashion and technology coming out of our asses but people still think we’re nothing more than a bunch of tentacle fuckers.” Makoto seemed to catch themselves. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, if it’s what you’re into, it’s just… You know?”

“I know.” Donghun took a cup and tilted his head. “That sucks, Makoto, no wonder you’re pissed. How about I fix you a drink?”

Makoto’s shoulders sagged in relief, as though just coming here and spewing their aggravations had already made them go away.

“Thanks, Donghun.”

Part of Donghun’s job was in knowing what these people needed. Sometimes, they wanted to share good news, sometimes they wanted his opinion, but more often than not they just wanted a friendly face, and a good drink.

However, despite the late hour – it was already past 11pm and darkness had coated Seoul outside like a rich ink – this wasn’t a place people came to drown their sorrows. In fact, despite the long counter and the bar stools that indicated that this used to be a livelier joint, there was no alcohol for sale here at all.

Most cafes in the city turned off their machines and closed their doors for the night by eight or nine in the evening. It was that transitional twilight when the daytime establishments pulled down shutters, and bars and clubs started to let in their masses. But when all the other baristas were heading out for drinks, that’s when Donghun was opening shop.

People had thought him strange when he had first told them how he was spending his grandparents’ inheritance. _What do you mean, a late night café? Who drinks coffee at midnight?!_ But the truth was, Donghun had simply been creating the place he had always wished existed. And, four years later, it turned out that he was not the only person in Seoul who wanted to sit in the cosy comfort of a coffee shop between the hours of 9pm and 3am. Artists, writers, students, insomniacs: one by one they had discovered this little nook, with its dim amber lights and old wooden bar and creaky soft armchairs.

Something, somehow, had drawn them to 34 Sycamore Street.

Donghun finished the foam on top of Makoto’s drink and handed it over, watching the day’s frustration melt from their face as they lifted the cup and took the first sip. They drifted away to an armchair in one lowly-lit corner today; sometimes they sat at the counter to chat, but Donghun knew Makoto well enough to know when they came here for time to brood.

Donghun reached for his phone and turned up the music just a little. Japanese lo-fi – _always_ Japanese lo-fi – because he swore up and down that it made the coffee taste better. Those drifting, lazy melodies over addictive beats, so distinct in their country of origin. It earned a little nod across the café from Makoto and he grinned. He was probably coming across like an ass-kisser right now, but he had truthfully loved these playlists since he’d been at university.

Dreaminess settled back over 34 Sycamore Street, and Donghun allowed himself a moment to lean on the counter and savour it, sleeves rolled up and showing off the colourful ink that decorated both of his arms. Just like a good blend, there were times he had to let himself linger over the goodness of the café he had created. Low lighting, because there was nothing more jarring than the fluorescent lights of a chain coffee shop in the middle of the night. Amber bulbs and strings of warm fairy lights created a gentle glow, melting in the air with the ever-present scent of freshly ground coffee beans. Sometimes, there would be the low murmurs of people talking, but often the patrons here would be alone, leaving clinking mugs and tapping keyboards as the ambient sounds. In the front window sat a number of oddly-shaped cacti that had become a bit of a habit to collect, and greyscale paintings made by a friend back home in Suwon were hung on the walls.

To him, it was home – he lived in the apartment above the shop as well, and he ran the place single-handedly. That meant he spent every night here, except the one night off a week he granted himself on Mondays.

It was a fairly quiet night tonight. In fact, every night was a quiet night – it wasn’t the sort of place to be packed to the rafters. Donghun headed over to clear a mug from a recently vacated table, and delicately extracted a finished cup from another. Its owner was lost in thought, tapping away at his MacBook with a frown wrinkling his forehead. His bleach-blonde hair was escaping the space buns it was wrapped up in, those little sparkly butterfly hairclips fighting a losing battle to keep each strand in place. Donghun left Byeongkwan in peace; he knew that he was one of those regulars who needed this space to focus.

Donghun was just jotting down ingredients he needed to run out to fetch tomorrow when the door chimed once more. He looked up and smiled.

“Hey, Yuchan,” he greeted, fairly positive that he’d remembered the young man’s name right. He was granted a big, bright smile that told him he was correct.

“Hi!” The boy with the pixie cut slid onto one of the stools at the counter, eyes still crinkled in happiness. He was a good-looking boy, with an open face and easy smile, perhaps twenty-four, twenty-five? “How’s your evening?”

“It’s nice and chilled, thanks.” Donghun leaned his hip against the shelving behind the counter, folding his arms. “How was your day?”

“Good!” Yuchan nodded enthusiastically. He had visited the café for the first time a week or two ago and had popped up a few times since – and every time he seemed far more lively than most people at – Donghun glanced at the clock – ten to midnight.

“What can I get you tonight?”

“Ummm…” Yuchan’s eyes travelled over the blackboard with careful cursive behind Donghun’s head. “Can I have a hot chocolate? Can you make it vanilla?”

“Of course,” Donghun smiled, his teeth aching at the thought. He fetched down a cup and began making Yuchan’s drink. A sweet drink for a sweet kid. “What brings you here so late?”

“These.” Yuchan was tugging a stack of dog-eared textbooks from his backpack and Donghun raised an eyebrow in question. They hit the counter with a thump. “I have a tonne of marking to do.”

“You teach?”

“Yeah! At middle school.” His eyes lit up with pride, but his smile faltered as he looked down at his books. “Always so much marking though… It never ends.” He pulled out a red pen from his bag and traced his finger over a name written in young handwriting on the book on top. “I love the kids, but it’s hard work.”

“A _hagwon_ , or state?”

“State.” Yuchan’s answer was enthusiastic. “My mom couldn’t afford to send me to a _hagwon_ as a kid. Even at that age, I remember thinking it was kinda unfair. My mom worked hard, but some other kids had rich grandparents or inheritance and it meant they got an advantage to do better at school… Which meant they were more likely to go to university… Which meant they were more likely to, well… do stuff with their lives.”

“Capitalism at its finest,” Donghun smiled as he gently poured steamed milk into rich dark chocolate. The smell of warming cocoa filled the air with a fruity sweetness. “So you teach in a State school to help kids who were like you?”

“Exactly!” Yuchan seemed far from seeing his situation as a sob story; his eyes were sparkling with happiness. The bell at the door tinkled again as Yuchan nodded. “Those kids deserve a good education regardless of how much money their parents have.”

Donghun _was_ listening – after all, he loved getting to know customers, their backstories, their livelihoods. He had warmed instantly to Yuchan and was curious about his teaching life. However, one big distraction had just walked in the café, and it was suddenly quite difficult to give Yuchan his full attention.

He slid Yuchan his hot chocolate, lovingly made. Yuchan smiled as he sipped, warmth steaming the glasses propped on his nose. He made an appreciative noise.

“So what got you into teaching?” Donghun asked, to continue the conversation and to give himself a chance at refocussing.

“I didn’t know what to do with my life.” Yuchan propped himself on his elbows, playing with his red pen. “When I was in college, everyone seemed to know exactly what they wanted to be. A doctor. A lawyer. A singer. All I knew was that I wanted to do good in the world. Help people, you know?” He took his spoon and swirled the froth in his cocoa. “And I figured that teaching kids is one of the best things I could do. Try and be like the good teachers I had in school… and less like the bad ones.” He grinned, and glanced at the customer who had just approached the counter, who took a seat at the far end against the wall.

Yuchan looked down at his first textbook as Donghun stepped over to take the new customer’s order.

“Hey,” he greeted, and privately fumed at the way he felt his ears go pink as the boy met his eyes.

Good _god_ , he was handsome.

Whoever he was, he had first stopped by 34 Sycamore Street about two months ago. Donghun had nearly fallen over his own feet as this windswept, leggy boy had walked in, hands in the pockets of his long, chequered coat. He’d come in and sat in the same spot he was in now, tucked at the end of the counter near the wall, laptop out. He’d ordered a coffee, no sugar, and clamped expensive silver headphones over his ears, all while Donghun had grabbed furtive stares at him.

Since then, he’d come and gone on random nights, often swinging by well after midnight and nearly staying until closing. He’d never wanted to chat; the headphones were always on, his eyes reflecting the light of whatever was on his screen. He just came in, took his usual spot, and always ordered-

“Hey. A double espresso, please.”

“Sure.” Donghun’s eyes lingered as the boy looked back down at his laptop, already refocussed.

 _Double Espresso_. That was Donghun’s nickname for him now. Hardly an unusual drink, but Donghun decided it suited him somehow. Classic. Understated. A little mysterious.

Donghun set about making his drink, unable to stop himself shooting little glances at Double Espresso. Tonight, he was wearing a soft turtleneck underneath a black leather jacket, his dark hair falling forward over his eyebrows. The jumper clung to his torso in ways that were entirely unfair on Donghun. He-

Donghun winced as he fumbled the glass, catching it just before it shattered, but not before it made a loud _clink_ against the wood.

He turned his back hastily so no one would see his red face.

Scolding himself internally, he forced himself to focus more on the godforsaken coffee and less on hot customers.

He served the boy and went back to making his ingredient list. Dreamy chill-hop strings glided out over the coffee shop as Seoul slept outside, leaving this little bubble of peaceful productivity inside. There was a sense of timelessness; the clock ticked on, but the slow-roasted night felt like it could last forever.

As the night became the early morning, one by one, the patrons got to their feet, closing books and tucking laptops into their bags for the night. The college girls in the window left with a wave, followed not long after by Byeongkwan with the space buns. Makoto wandered over before they left, looking considerably more at peace than when they entered.

“Thanks for the great coffee as always, Donghun.” They yawned, dark eyes watering. “And thanks for listening to me vent.”

“Any time,” Donghun smiled warmly. “You know you’re always more than welcome. You get home safe, okay?”

By half past one, Yuchan’s eyelids were fluttering as he poured over his marking. Donghun’s lips quirked as he leaned down on the bar in front of him.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Yuchan jerked upright, crinkling one page of the book he was marking with his elbow. “Maybe you should get home and get some rest. What time does school start tomorrow?”

“Uh… Eight thirty,” Yuchan mumbled. “But I’ve got to get in at half seven.”

Donghun shook his head sympathetically. “Go get a couple hours sleep. You’ll be no use to those kids if you don’t.”

“Yeah.” Yuchan nodded, yawning. He still smiled, even with the circles around his eyes. Standing with a stretch, he took the armful of books and shouldered his bag. “I’ll be back soon, I’m sure. Night!”

“See you then.”

The door jingled shut behind the cheerful teacher, and Donghun cleared his empty cup. Tinkering with a few jobs, he wound down for the night and perched on the stool behind the counter, leaning back against the shelves and opening his book. He found his place as he absently adjusted his nose ring.

Moments like this were bliss. Another night providing coffee and company for those who needed somewhere to go, hypnotic music washing over him, and now the night was drawing to a close. In that last hour of opening, he got to enjoy a sweet tea, crack open a novel, and relax.

Relax… and keep ogling Double Espresso.

Donghun glanced furtively over his book. He was the only customer in here, still squirreling away at whatever he was working on. Donghun sighed dreamily. What gave him the right to swan around with those high cheekbones, and defined jawline, and dreamy dark eyes? It took a lot to get Donghun’s heart racing, but here he was fumbling glassware at the very sight of this guy.

His eyes snapped back to his book as Double Espresso looked up. A prickle of guilt warmed his neck.

Ah, so what – appreciating a little eye candy never hurt.

Donghun pursed his lips to one side. He wondered what the guy was working on? Sure, everybody had a story to tell – but it didn’t mean every customer came here looking to share their life history. Hell, Donghun knew better than most that sometimes, people just want to be left alone, and there was nothing worse than overly chatty barista. No, he let the talkers come to him.

And so he was left musing on this guy. Over the weeks, he’d taken to inventing a persona behind him. Dark and moody – that was for sure. Was he some mysterious detective, working late into the night on a case? Or a writer, crafting thriller novels fuelled by his quick shots of caffeine? Did he have a lover, waiting for him to finish his important nightly work and come home to them in bed..?

Eventually, Double Espresso packed up his things, pushing his headphones down around his neck.

“Night,” he said with a half-smile, and Donghun nodded.

“Goodnight…” He watched him leave, his eyes travelling down the boy’s body as he walked away faster than he could feel guilty about it.

With a yawn, Donghun fetched his key from under the counter and set about locking up shop. It wasn’t a bad routine; he cashed up, cleaned down the machines, wiped the tables, plumped the armchair cushions and flipped the wooden sign on the door to closed. Flicking off the light, he headed out onto the street, and took the world’s shortest commute to the door next to the café’s – and headed upstairs to home.

“Hey, baby girl.” He smiled as Hae padded down the hall to greet him, winding her fluffy white tail through his legs. He shut the front door quietly. “Did someone miss Dad?”

Hae mewed in response, her purr loud and happy as they both headed through to the bedroom. Donghun yawned, pulling off his white button-down and skinny black jeans, tossing them over the back of his chair and climbing straight into bed in nothing but his boxers and the tattoos over his arms and scattered on his chest and ribs. He let out a murmur of contentment, and reached out a hand to tickle Hae’s chin as she pounced up on the duvet to join him.

His room was a sanctuary of plants and prints of his favourite movies, his favourite fashion pieces hung on the rail against one wall. After serving others all night, this was where he could come and indulge himself, even if he usually came in and immediately crashed out. He snuggled deeper into the pillows at the very idea of sleep.

He hoped Yuchan was getting some sleep before teaching his classes tomorrow. And he hoped Makoto wasn’t too wound up either.

He hoped the coffee and serenity had helped.

Reaching for his lamp, he turned the room dark and fell instantly into warm dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back..!
> 
> I'm really happy to bring you the first chapter of 34 Sycamore Street; my first out-and-out coffee shop AU. After writing stories that spanned multiple countries - or in the Neverland Chronicles, multiple worlds - I wanted to try something different and create a story that is smaller, quieter... just like your favourite backstreet coffee shop.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading the first chapter. Everybody has a story - and five of them are about to unravel over the coming weeks. I hope you'll enjoy the ride!
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly
> 
> [Find me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/IndiDragonfly)


	2. Mint Mocha

Hae’s pupils widened into round discs of playful darkness. She lowered to a crouch, wiggling from side to side, and then leapt forward, little claws sinking into the toy mouse.

“Oh, big scary cat,” Donghun grinned, tugging the mouse’s tail and only making Hae clutch it tighter. He had adopted Hae just a few months ago, and she had already grown a lot from the little ball of white fluff he had first brought into his home. He liked living alone – he was an introvert, after all – but having Hae here was welcome company.

“Well, you be good.” Donghun got to his feet, leaving Hae to roll over with the mouse and kick it with her back legs. “Some of us have to go to work.”

Donghun peered in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt. He roughly balled up his hair into a knot and fixed it with a band from his wrist, messy tendrils falling around his ears. Sometimes he wondered if his entire appearance was based around rebellion; before opening the café, he had worked for a short time in an office, where the only option for self-expression was which shade of dull grey suit he could wear each day. And prior to that, he has completed his military service, his hair shaved away as he became one more soldier among the masses.

But now he worked for himself. No one could criticise him, judge him, fire him. To rebel against the military’s clippers, he had grown his hair down to his jaw and bleached it blonde. To rebel against the company’s greyscale, he had covered his arms with tattoos – music notes, flowers, foliage and fireworks. To rebel against school’s rules, he had pierced his nose, ears, even his nipples… All as though creating a canvas of himself to tarnish him from ever slipping into mediocrity again.

He pulled on a pair of rainbow-soled converse and made his way to the café. He dashed between doors, face screwed up against the mist of rain coming down over the city like fine sprinklers over a garden. Shivering in protest from the cold and damp, he unlocked the shop and set about opening up for the night.

He flipped the sign to open and headed back to the counter to put on his playlist. Rain, coffee, and lo-fi: that felt like his own personal brand. He pulled on a deep blue cardigan he kept behind the counter, wondering distantly if Double Espresso would make a reappearance again this evening. Probably not – after all, he had been in just three nights ago. He shouldn’t get his hopes up of having another chance to drool over him.

Only ten minutes after opening, the door chimed its greeting and Donghun looked up with a smile. It grew wider as he saw a familiar face grinning back at him.

“Nerlande!” He raised a hand, his chest warming at the sight of the girl hurrying inside from the slow rain. “You’re back. How was the trip?”

Nerlande pushed back the furred hood of her coat as she headed to the counter, and Donghun was struck for the thousandth time by her jaw-dropping beauty. He remembered the first time she had come to 34 Sycamore Street – he had found it hard not to gawp at the tall, willowy girl with a shaved scalp, dazzling smile and dark skin like moonlit midnight. It had been like a goddess had walked in to buy an americano.

“Hey, Donghun,” Nerlande smiled, her whole face radiating warmth. “It was really great. Nothing beats being with family.” She slipped onto one of the stools at the counter, folding her hands gracefully on the polished wood. Donghun began making her drink without the need to ask for her order. “The travel is a bit of a haul, but it was so good to be back in Haiti for a bit.”

Nerlande would always hold a special place in Donghun’s heart; after all, she had been his first regular. In those early months, she had come by a few nights a week on her way home from various sets and photoshoots. Back then, she had been a newcomer in South Korea, having moved all the way from Haiti. Trying to get into the modelling scene was difficult enough – let alone for a foreigner – and Donghun remembered well her broken Korean and stack of rejection letters. But the thing that had struck him was how no matter the knockbacks, and no matter the mean words she had heard both from agencies and on the street, her smile and warmth had never faltered.

He smiled now at the beautiful Gucci purse she placed on the table to withdraw her debit card from, and the elegant Burberry coat she folded neatly onto the stool next to her. She was the very essence of hard work and perseverance paying off.

They chatted as Donghun handed over her coffee, and a memory from her last visit popped into his head.

“And what’s happening with the mystery man you told me about?”

Nerlande’s lips curled upwards as she swirled her coffee. “Ah. The mystery man and I have been spending lots of time together. He called me almost every night on my trip.” She rested her angular chin in one hand. “He’s a real gentleman. They’re not so easy to come across, these days.”

“They most definitely aren’t,” Donghun agreed.

“And how about you, Mr Lee?” Nerlande leaned in conspiratorially. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“You know I’m not.” Donghun looked up with a raised eyebrow. “I’m always single.”

“Well, you’re a handsome man with his own business, own apartment…” Nerlande indicated the café around them with a flourish of her manicured nails. “Anyone would be lucky to have you.” She pursed her lips. “Are there no nice customers who come by?”

Donghun couldn’t help it: Double Espresso immediately popped into his mind, all dark hair and sharp cheekbones and pretty clothes. He knew his cheeks were turning pink from the way Nerlande’s smile widened.

“Oh, there _is_ someone!”

“No,” Donghun said with a laugh. “There isn’t. I’ve never even spoken to him.” He gave her a playfully reproachful look. “Besides, I’m a _professional._ I don’t mix pleasure and business.”

“Very good point.” Nerlande raised her hands, conceding defeat. “Anyway, I have a few emails to reply to, so I’m going to go snuggle in an armchair and drink this.” She stood up and took her americano to the far wall, settling down with her phone and a notebook.

Several more customers followed shortly, each showing visible signs of relief at the shelter from the weather. Rain pattered against the window, and umbrellas lined up, propped near the door.

An hour or so into opening hours, a bright smile shone its way into the coffee shop. Yuchan was soaked, but he stripped off his hat and coat with a happiness like he’d been out on a summer’s day.

“Hi!” The teacher bounced on his toes at the counter, eyes on the blackboard, before deciding to take up a place on a stool. “Can I get a mocha please? Ah – can you make it a mint mocha?”

“Mint choco,” Donghun nodded, eyes twinkling, “a man after my own heart.”

“You don’t do cream and stuff to go on top, do you?” Yuchan glanced around the café. “That’s not a sacrilegious thing to ask in a fancy café, is it?”

“Heretic!”

Donghun looked up with amusement at Nerlande as she cackled over her phone from her seat. Yuchan grinned and flushed.

“Ignore her,” Donghun soothed. “We’re not snobs here. Cream? Marshmallows? Chocolate sauce?”

“Oooh, yes!” Yuchan beamed, and Donghun took a beat to realise he wasn’t making a choice of topping, rather simply asking for them all. “That sounds great!”

Donghun made his sweet drink, wondering how on earth the boy ever slept after downing that much coffee and sugar. He really must work so hard at school that no amount of caffeine could stop him crashing out late at night.

Yuchan’s energy was different today. He was normally chatty and alert, but he remained glued to his phone, almost missing his mouth with his drink as his eyes stayed on the screen. Donghun made takeout drinks for two customers on their late commute home from university, still keeping an eye on Yuchan and the smile that kept tugging at his lips. It wasn’t his place to pry, but he wondered what had got him so happy.

Eventually, Yuchan let out a dreamy sigh he couldn’t help but look up at.

“Sorry,” Yuchan said, catching himself and going pink. He grinned sheepishly.

“Nothing to apologise for.” Donghun wiped down the coffee machine casually. “You seem mighty happy today.”

“I am.” Yuchan blurted it out, biting at his lip. “I’m, um, well… I’m seeing someone.”

“Oh?” Donghun gave an amused half-smile. That would explain it.

“Yeah. And I’m really happy. I haven’t felt like this… well, ever.” He grinned giddily, all flushed and excited.

“So, you want to tell me about this exciting person?”

“Ah, well,” Yuchan shuffled on his stool, playing with his collar. He glanced away. “Um, well… well, we met when I was doing some extra teacher training stuff. They work at the university.” He cleared his throat, his ears reddening. “Ah… _He_ works at the university.”

For a moment Donghun was confused by Yuchan’s bashfulness, wondering if he was scared of being judged for meeting someone through work. And then it dawned on him that he had emphasised the ‘he’.

“Oh,” he said quickly, realising that Yuchan was watching him in case of a bad reaction. “Oh, I’m gay.” He smiled in reassurance. “It’s cool.”

“Ah!” Yuchan’s shoulders visibly relaxed. His expression lit up. “Well I guess you’d kind of understand it then! Like… how hard it can be to meet someone when a lot of people keep their sexuality under wraps.” He looked down at his mocha.

“I get that. You can crush on someone, but you don’t even know if they’re into guys, or whatever…”

“Well, yeah.” Yuchan took a sip, fidgeting. “There’s that. And, well, I’m demisexual, and it feels like that limits my pool even more.” He laughed self-consciously. “To meet a person who is into guys, who will _divulge_ that they like guys, and then spend time getting close enough with me for me to… yeah.” Yuchan looked up as a customer brought their empty cups to the counter, pausing long enough for Donghun to bid them goodnight.

“That’s tough,” Donghun said gently.

“Um…” Yuchan looked away and looked back quickly. “Sorry, do you know what demisexuality is?”

Donghun paused, and then took a seat on his own stool behind the counter with the cup of tea he had made himself, giving Yuchan his full attention. He had a sense that this was important to him.

“I think so,” he said, nodding. “But why don’t you tell me what it means to you?”

“So, like… I only get attracted to someone _that_ way when I’ve got an emotional connection to them.” He stirred a marshmallow in distraction. “Like, I don’t have to be in _love_ with them – that’s not how it is for me, anyway – but I just… I don’t feel sexual attraction until I’ve got that emotional bond first.”

“Got you. So you wouldn’t feel sexually attracted to someone, say, you’d just met at a bar?”

“Right.” Yuchan bobbed his head. “I’d have zero desire to hop into bed with them. It’s not that I don’t find people _attractive_ , like I can walk past a stranger in the street and think they’re good-looking. But I don’t feel sexual attraction like that. Not like a lot of people do. It takes time, and a connection. I don’t have a desire to, y’know, be intimate with someone unless I’ve got that bond with them… So yeah. It’s tough.”

“Do you mind me asking a question?” Donghun sipped his tea as Yuchan shook his head. “Are you into different genders? Or just guys?”

“Just guys.” Yuchan smiled. “People sometimes think demisexuality means being attracted to anyone you connect emotionally with. But firstly… Not all demisexual people like all genders. You can be demisexual and gay… like me. Or you can be demisexual and also consider yourself pansexual or straight or something. Also… Just because I form a connection doesn’t mean I necessarily will get into someone like _that_ , you know? I have tonnes of friends I have deep bonds with but I’m not _into_ into them. It just means I have to have a bond with a guy _and_ then experience that attraction.”

“Makes sense to me.” Donghun’s heart felt warm; he wanted to learn as much as possible, and he got a sense that talking like this was therapeutic for Yuchan. Right on cue, Yuchan continued with a sigh.

“It’s kinda hard because I don’t really have anyone I can talk to about this stuff.” He looked embarrassed, and Donghun’s heart ached for him. He knew that feeling all too well. “I read a lot of stuff online to try to help understand myself but… There’s arguments within the community _itself_ , let alone trying to make the rest of the world understand us.” His eyes grew sad and confused. “People argue about whether its on the asexuality spectrum, or they argue what is and isn’t ‘demi’… It’s hard to understand your community when your community doesn’t understand itself.” Yuchan let out a small laugh. “It’s confusing.”

“It sounds it.” Donghun looked at him gently. “But you know… you’re free to define yourself with whichever words you want to. And if they change over time… that’s okay too.”

Yuchan looked up, something unreadable in his face. “Thanks, Donghun.”

“Anyway…” Donghun said, a sly grin creeping back onto his face. “Tell me about this guy, then.”

“Right.” Yuchan sat up, the confusion disappearing and getting replaced with something far happier. The door tinkled as a customer headed out into the rain, huddling under their umbrella. “So I got sorta sidetracked, but basically, it’s hard for me to meet someone I’m into. But I was doing training ages ago and we met there. And we’ve hung out a lot since, and messaged every day, and recently we got really close and I’m really into him.” Yuchan’s cheeks were flushed and Donghun raised an eyebrow teasingly.

“Oh, I can tell from the way you were beaming at your phone.” He glanced up as the door opened. “One sec, Yuchan.”

The boy who walked in was unfamiliar, his sharp eyes sweeping over the café and a gentle smile lifting his face, like a man who had found what he was looking for. The top half of his dark hair was tied back in a fluffy little ponytail, and his outfit was eclectic.

“Welcome!” Donghun greeted, tilting his head with a warm smile. “Can I get you something to warm you up?”

“Thanks,” the boy said in a gentle voice, ducking his head once. “I’ll get a cappuccino, please. With almond milk, if that’s okay.”

“Almond milk cappuccino, coming up.” Donghun made up his coffee, working the foam carefully on top of the steaming espresso. As he handed it to the customer, he noted a little robot tattoo on his wrist. The boy smiled with another nod as he paid, and withdrew to a table.

“So, dreamy teacher training man.” Donghun returned his attention to Yuchan. “You’re dating?”

“Yeah.” Yuchan let out nothing short of a giggle. “He’s quite a bit older than me, and he makes me feel looked after. He’s always treating me to stuff. And you know… _other_ things are good too.” He grinned, caught between bashfulness and boyish delight. Donghun laughed.

“Sounds like a dream.”

Perhaps rainy nights were Donghun’s favourite. Yuchan went back to grinning at his phone, Nerlande worked on her emails, and other customers came and went with dog-eared novels and laptops and notebooks. Gentle music beats blended with the pitter-patter of rain and the hiss of the steamer for every coffee crafted.

Just after midnight, the door opened again, letting in a gust of cold air. Donghun looked up quickly, heart skipping in hope – after all, this was the time his favourite handsome stranger usually dropped by. He was faintly guilty about the disappointment that filtered through his chest when Byeongkwan walked in instead.

“Evening.” The sharp-faced boy had his blonde hair wrapped in two somewhat frazzled-looking space-buns again, glittering clips holding random strands of hair in some sort of place. His lips were coloured with a shimmery gloss and his earrings caught the amber lights. He dropped into a stool with a sigh.

“Evening. You okay?” Donghun watched Byeongkwan sigh a second time.

“Yeah, fine, just exhausted.” His eyes travelled over the blackboard and Donghun noticed the dark circles underneath them. “Could I get a cappuccino, please? Wait, do you have almond milk?”

“I do of course.” Donghun took out the dairy alternative and grabbed a cup. “Sit back, it looks like you need a rest.”

“I really do.” Byeongkwan slid his arms down on the counter and rested his head down. “Work in video games, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.” He caught himself, and rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t moan. It _is_ fun, but crunch fucking well isn’t.”

“‘Crunch’?” Donghun echoed.

“Yeah. Crunchy fucking crunch. It’s a delightful games industry phenomenon. Basically, it’s forced overtime, and developers and whoever end up working _insane_ hours to meet unrealistic deadlines for a game’s release.” He sat up as Donghun placed his coffee in front of him. “It’s a real culture in game development. Teams work all night, all weekend, before showcases or release dates. I love what I do, but…” He laughed dryly. “Right now it feels like I’m being flogged into working twenty-five hours a day.”

Donghun was about to reply when Byeongkwan glanced over at Yuchan along the counter. The teacher smiled guiltily, his ears turning pink.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” he said. “I just couldn’t help but overhear… I had no idea that happened?”

Byeongkwan smiled, angling himself towards Yuchan slightly and wrapping his hands around his mug. “Yeah, most people don’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m being a real whiney shit today because I’m tired – I love making games. But crunch is problematic and people don’t realise those are the conditions their favourite games get made under.”

“I had no idea…” Yuchan shook his head. “But… making games for a job _is_ super cool.”

If Donghun didn’t know better, he’d have said Byeongkwan sat up and puffed up his feathers at the compliment.

“I guess so.” He grinned behind his hand, glancing at Yuchan. “What games do you play?”

Yuchan swivelled to face him, immediately reeling off a list of games and talking excitedly about his favourite series. Donghun bit at a smile, and left them to chat.

He tidied around the rest of the café, re-plumping cushions and turning tables spotless once again. He hummed under his breath happily despite the late hour, looking up with a wave as Nerlande made her way off for the night.

The hours were dwindling into the real late night, and customers were filtering out on their ways as Donghun stopped to collect an empty mug from the boy with the robot tattoo. He had papers spread across the table he sat at, coloured pens scattered over the pages.

Donghun’s eyes widened in surprise. Drawing after drawing of incredible manga characters, each one with rainbow hair, and expressive faces, and intricate outfits. Each had notes scribbled next to them-

The boy looked up and caught Donghun staring.

“Sorry!” Donghun held up his hands apologetically, quickly collecting the boy’s mug instead. “I didn’t mean to invade. It’s just… your art is _amazing_.”

“Ah! Thanks.” The boy’s words were quiet, but his smile was genuine. “This is a nice place to come and draw.”

“Yeah? I’m glad. I-”

Donghun trailed off as his eyes settled on one of the characters. The manga boy had a pretty face with striking eyes, a bright pink jacket hanging off one shoulder as he raised his hand in a v-sign. Patchwork jeans clung to his legs and bracelets decorated his arms. And… his blonde hair was wrapped up in space-buns, fixed with pink and purple butterfly clips.

Donghun glanced from the drawing, to Byeongkwan, and back again.

“Uh…” The artist stuttered, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. He wrung his hands. “I swear, I’m not a creep, I…”

Donghun chuckled, cutting the boy short.

“I didn’t think you were.” His eyes twinkled as the boy tucked the drawing hastily beneath a pile of others. “I’m sure he’d love it.”

“…Please don’t tell.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Donghun put his hand on his heart solemnly. His smirk softened. “I understand, artists take inspiration from the people they see.” He looked around. “Coffee shops are a great place for that.”

“Yeah,” the boy nodded, his high colour fading slightly. His eyes slipped past Donghun to Byeongkwan, and Donghun could have sworn he detected a little of that wistfulness he felt himself whenever he stole glances at Double Espresso.

Ah. That would make sense.

“Anyway, your art’s so awesome,” he said, keeping his private suspicions of crushes to himself. “What’s your name?”

“Sehyoon.” Sehyoon smiled, more confidently this time. “You?”

“Donghun. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll leave you in peace, but just shout if you want another drink.”

A smile still played at Donghun’s lips as he returned behind the counter. He filled a glass with water, taking a moment to water the leafy plants on one shelf near the blackboard menu. Behind him, Yuchan and Byeongkwan were still talking.

“Have you played the new one? The prequel?”

“Not yet,” Yuchan said with a wistful sigh. “I haven’t had a chance – and games are always super expensive at release.”

“Hey, I’ve got a friend at the studio. I could probably get you a code.”

“Really?”

Donghun turned, glancing at Yuchan as he sat forward with sparkling eyes. He bit back a smile. Was it just him, or was Byeongkwan showing off?

“’Course. Give me your Kakaotalk ID, I’ll speak to her tomorrow and drop you a message.”

“Ah! Wow! Yes please!”

“No sweat. What’s your name? So I can add you as a contact.”

“Yuchan.” A beat. “Channie.”

Donghun turned away, reaching for his book and slipping out the bookmark. _That’s enough eavesdropping for one day, Mr Lee._ Instead, he turned his attention to his story, leaving his customers to chat, and draw, and listen to the rain, until one by one they left for their beds and one more night at the timeless café drew to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wish Sycamore Street existed...
> 
> Thank you so much for reading chapter 2! I hope you're enjoying the beginning of the story as we meet our main characters - I love writing teacher Yuchan and game dev Kwan a whole lot.
> 
> Love to every game dev, producer, artist, writer and business team who is going through crunch right now - I was in it before Christmas and I'm pretty sure I worked so much I forgot my own name.
> 
> Stay safe and see you soon for chapter 3!
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly


	3. Caramel Macchiato

This was becoming a problem.

It may just be a café, but Donghun took great pride in what he did. He worked hard to create a soft space, the gentle homeliness of the coffee shop created from dedication and a little magic touch. Every coffee he made wasn’t just good, it was _great:_ the perfect temperature, the perfect bitterness, the perfect taste. The coffee shop was never too hot, even in the summer, and never too cold when the snow settled in thick undulating waves in winter. The lighting was just right, not too dazzling, not too dusky. The music somehow matched the mood, always, as though the café had a voice, and used it to soothe the stress from the shoulders of its customers.

So, he was not used to having a _problem_. And he knew he had one, a big one, when he made the complete wrong order for a customer.

“Don’t worry, dear,” the older lady smiled as Donghun apologised profusely. “It’s easily done!”

But it wasn’t easily done. Donghun mistook a cappuccino for a cortado about as often as he mistook Hae for a hyena. He remade the takeout drink and ducked a final apologetic bow, and a scowl settled over his face as the door tinkled on their way out. He shot a dark look at his _problem_.

Double Espresso was entirely unaware of any of it.

He hadn’t been around for a week or two, nearly long enough for Donghun to forget his budding crush. But tonight he had shown up just minutes after opening, settling down in his usual spot, tugging out his laptop, ordering his usual and disappearing into his headphones.

Donghun sighed, and it sounded far more dreamy than he’d like.

Double Espresso’s eyes followed something on his screen, absently catching a droplet of coffee that was escaping down the side of his cup with his little finger. He raised it to his mouth, popping it between his lips and sucking.

Donghun wanted to whine. What was this, some sort of coffee shop soft porn?!

He tore his gaze away. That was enough of _that_. Hot as he may be, Donghun still hadn’t exchanged any greater number of words with him than taking his order and bidding him goodnight. He could be a complete asshole, regardless of his pretty face. Yes – most likely nothing more than a vapid pretty boy. It wasn’t like he gave off the friendliest vibes.

His resolve firm, Donghun dragged his attention away from Double Espresso long enough to focus on the other customers who made their way in. There were a couple of new faces tonight, and he always enjoyed getting to know newcomers.

Most of his clientele were young – he wasn’t sure why, perhaps it was only those his own age who tended to stay out late; perhaps coffee shop culture was the forte of the young. So when someone over the age of forty came in to visit, they were notably different to the rest of the patronage. However, Donghun always made a special effort not to let them feel out of place. Age was a mere number, after all, and the last thing he wanted was to create an exclusive atmosphere that pushed certain people out. That wasn’t what 34 Sycamore Street was supposed to be.

With that in mind, he greeted the man at the counter with his usual warm smile. It was not, however, returned.

“A tea, please. Earl grey.” His eyes didn’t meet Donghun’s; he was messaging on his phone.

Donghun nodded. “Coming up.”

It hadn’t been rude, per se, but it certainly wasn’t the friendliest customer he’d had this week. The man sat at the counter, removing his coat and sighing through his nose at whatever message he was typing. He was perhaps in his early forties; dark hair turning silver in a way that wasn’t unflattering, his structured face lined with stubble beneath a sculpted nose. He had the air of a man with money; Donghun knew his brands, and his shirt was Ralph Lauren, and his bag was definitely real leather.

Donghun placed his loose-leaf tea on the counter.

“Here you g-”

The man’s eyes met Donghun’s briefly with a curt nod, just as he answered a call. The ringtone was obnoxiously loud against the floaty background music of the café, and Donghun gritted his teeth.

“I can’t really talk,” the man said, making several customers look up. “I told you, I’m working late.”

Donghun breathed heavily through his nostrils and turned to busy himself, aware that he wasn’t good at hiding his facial expressions. Taking loud phone calls in his café: the number one way to piss him off. Instead, he turned his music up on the speakers and made himself busy.

The door chimed and Donghun looked up, some of his annoyance replaced with buoyancy. He smiled at Yuchan and got a bright glow in return.

“Hi!” he called as he trotted over, slipping into a stool. “Hey, you found it.”

“Hello, you.” The older man had finished his call, and a smile finally ghosted his face. Donghun blinked in surprise as the man kissed Yuchan in greeting, one elegant hand slipping onto his waist. The young teacher’s cheeks went pink, and he glanced at Donghun, giddiness all too plain in his eyes.

“Hey, Donghun.” He took off his jacket, his fingers lacing into the other man’s. “Could I get a mocha please?”

Yuchan’s partner snorted softly and clucked his chin. “My sweetie’s such a fiend for sugar.” Yuchan giggled, and the pair huddled closer, their thumbs stroking over one another’s.

Donghun made Yuchan’s drink the way he liked it, trying not to listen to the man’s low purr and Yuchan’s quiet giggles. Donghun considered himself a good judge of character: after all, he spent almost every night here, listening to people, getting a read on them. And there was something about this man that sat uncomfortably with Donghun. His rude manner was at odds with Yuchan’s sweet nature.

But Donghun glanced up as Yuchan and his boyfriend laughed in unison. The man’s expression had softened from when he’d come in, his eyes gentle and loving as he smiled into Yuchan’s face. Donghun felt a twinge of guilt. Perhaps he was being too hasty to judge – he could have had a bad day, or something stressful could have happened. And maybe his own prejudices had kicked in – sure, the age gap was stark, but they were both consenting adults, and they had gotten to know each other over time. He clearly made Yuchan happy.

He forced himself out of other people’s business for the next hour, focussing instead on where he was useful: brewing delicious coffee. Yuchan and his partner stood up to leave, and Donghun bid them goodnight, watching as the older man slid an arm around Yuchan’s narrow waist as they stepped outside.

He felt another twinge of discomfort.

He sighed, trying to push it away. Maybe he was jealous? It’s not like he knew how that felt. Someone coming to meet him after work, and sweep him off home.

“Excuse me? Sorry… Can I..?”

Donghun snapped from his bubble, and realised he had been leaning on his broom and staring at the floor, lost in thought. He looked up at Double Espresso, who had his headphones pushed off one ear and held his empty espresso cup uncertainly.

“Oh! Sure. Of course.” Donghun felt his face go hot, and quickly set about making him a fresh drink.

When the door opened next, it was another familiar face. Donghun smiled; he loved that his regulars felt like friends coming and going.

“Hey, Byeongkwan,” he greeted, and the smaller boy raised a hand in greeting. His eyes cast around the café and for a moment, Donghun thought he was here to meet someone. But he approached the long counter and slid onto a seat instead.

“How’s it going, Donghun.” His face was free of shadows today, his twin hair buns neater and more artful.

“All good, thanks. How’s crunch?”

Byeongkwan chuckled. “You remembered! Yeah, it’s alright. We met our deadline.” He glanced at the blackboard before ordering a cappuccino. “When crunch is over, I feel bad about moaning. Like, I’m very lucky to have a job I love.” He sipped his drink with a smile. “And I do love it. I’m surrounded by creatives, bringing stories to life. And I do fucking love playing games. Shouldn’t really complain.”

“I don’t know,” Donghun disagreed with a shake of his head. “I love this place – it’s my baby. But I still get grumpy about stock-take and having to sweep up. You can love your job and still complain sometimes.”

“Thanks.” Byeongkwan gave his sharp smile. He glanced across the room again. “Has, uh, has Yuchan been here recently? He said he’d probably be stopping by tonight.”

“You just missed him.” Donghun dusted the cappuccino with fine chocolate shavings. “He headed off about twenty minutes ago.”

“Ah,” Byeongkwan said, pulling out his phone. “No worries. I have a game code for him but I’ll drop him a message.”

One of Donghun’s favourite things about the café was its layout. He loved having the counter – a bar in a former reincarnation of this place – behind which was his own little bubble of space. He felt it added something, for customers to be able to choose whether to sit in the window seats, or on a comfy armchair, or sit at the counter like sitting at the bar. Though he liked keeping his own room by way of the divide, he also liked it when people sat here. It felt comfortable to him.

With Byeongkwan in the middle of the counter and Double Espresso in his usual spot to one side, there were a couple of empty stools off to the right. Donghun smiled as he saw a familiar dark-haired person enter the café. Sehyoon visibly hesitated, his eyes catching on Byeongkwan like fingers getting caught running through hair. He tugged away, lingered some more, then quietly took up a stool on the free end of the counter.

“Hey,” Sehyoon greeted in his quiet voice, tucking back a wisp of escaped hair. “Can I get a caramel macchiato please? It was… Donghun, right?”

“Right.” Donghun smiled, pushing back his own hair. “Sehyoon – I’ve remembered right, haven’t I?”

“Yeah.” The boy looked down – shy, or..?

Sehyoon’s eyes flicked up to glance at Byeongkwan, and Donghun caught Byeongkwan hastily look away from Sehyoon.

_Oh._

It took all of Donghun’s strength to bite back a smirk. This was a meeting he was excited about. As he made Sehyoon’s macchiato, he thought quickly. Conversation came easily to him, yet he got a sense the same couldn’t be said for Sehyoon. He clearly had a thing for Byeongkwan on first impressions – you didn’t draw someone as a manga character and stare wistfully at them across cafes for nothing. And Byeongkwan..? Donghun shot another sly glance at the boy with space buns as he swirled caramel on top of milk froth, and caught him furtively reapplying lip balm.

“Done any more amazing artwork?” Donghun asked lightly, as he finished the hypnotic swirl of amber sugar. Sehyoon accepted the drink and gave something between a nod and a shake of his head.

“Ah… Sort of. Only for work.” He took a sip; contentment crossed his face.

“Oh, you do it professionally?”

“Yeah. I’m an in-between artist. For an anime studio,” he added quickly at the sight of Donghun’s puzzled eyes. “So there’s key artists who do the important frames. And then people like me who draw everything in between.” He looked down at his drink, tucking his hands into his sleeves.

“That’s insane.” Donghun’s interest was genuinely piqued. “I thought all that went on in Japan?”

Sehyoon smiled. “That’s where the key artists are. They outsource the rest.”

“Still, that’s amazing. You must be something special to do it for a living.” Donghun glanced at Byeongkwan, who was doing a terrible job of pretending he wasn’t listening. “Who’d have thought I’d have so many creatives in here… An artist… And Byeongkwan here’s a video game developer…”

It was all the cue Byeongkwan needed. He looked up, turning his body language towards Sehyoon immediately.

“A game dev is nothing compared to drawing an anime panel by panel.” His angular eyes were wide, and Sehyoon’s cheeks went pink as he met them. “That’s so cool…”

“Working in video games if definitely cooler…” Sehyoon said with a shy laugh. “I’m really not all that good…”

“He’s lying,” Donghun cut in, raising his eyebrows at Byeongkwan conspiratorially. “I’ve seen his art.”

Sehyoon blushed deeper, shaking his head. “What kind of games do you work on?”

“We make RPGs, mainly. Big stories, very character-focussed.” Byeongkwan sat up, nonchalantly swirling his coffee. “It’s what I grew up playing. I always loved RPGs the most.”

“Me too.” Sehyoon smiled, leaning his chin on one hand. “It’s like getting to play a movie. Only, over about forty hours.” He hesitated. “I always wondered where developers even came up with their stories…”

“Well I’m a writer, so… I _should_ be able to answer that, but I swear I don’t even know. I get ideas in random places. In the shower. In the grocery store. Oh – and always when I’ve just lay down to go to sleep.”

Sehyoon chuckled. “Same here.”

“Do you base characters on real people you know?” Donghun asked, curious. As much as he was keen to broker an introduction with these two, he was also fascinated by the worlds they worked in.

“Not directly.” Byeongkwan pursed his lips. “I guess… Everyone I meet and everything I see becomes inspiration in a general sense. But I never just take someone and plop them into a storyline.” He paused. “I’m more driven about creating like, actual realistic characters. Who are diverse and stuff. You know, like I’m gender-fluid, why can’t my game characters be?”

Donghun blinked, caught off-guard. Gender..?

“That’s so great.” Sehyoon’s eyes shone. “Games are so much better when you relate to characters.” Byeongkwan smiled at him, looking pleased. “And you’re… Gender fluid? That’s kind of fascinating.”

Donghun glanced at Byeongkwan quickly. Was that… offensive? Could someone’s identity be called fascinating..?

Byeongkwan’s lips curled up into a smile, however. “You think?”

Sehyoon nodded. “Gender’s a bit of a construct anyway, isn’t it? Being fluid… makes sense, in a way.” He sipped his coffee. “What pronouns do you use?”

“They and them, usually,” Byeongkwan answered, giving him another smile.

“Byeongkwan, I…” Donghun cleared his throat, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. He didn’t want to interrupt this conversation but… “I’m really sorry for using… using male pronouns for you. That was really presumptuous of me.” Donghun wrung his hands. “I-”

“Oh no, man, don’t mention it, honestly.” Byeongkwan waved their hand, swatting away Donghun’s anxiety. “Seriously, we all use ‘he’ and ‘she’ as default still. Like, even I do that. As long as people don’t presume I’m a woman just because of the types of stories I create, we’re good.” They laughed. “I’m not offended. And besides, I change what I use for myself all the fucking time.”

“How so?”

“Well, for me, being gender-fluid isn’t ‘some days I’m a boy, some days I’m a girl’. It can be for other people. But me? Half the time I feel like a dude. Half the time I feel something way more non-binary. I call it ‘enby-fem’.” They waggled their eyebrows and Sehyoon grinned. “And it can be anything on a scale in between. I don’t ever feel like a _woman_ , not like, fully female. That’s just me. Just some days I definitely don’t feel ‘masculine’.” They traced the rim of their mug. “But it’s all a construct anyway, right..?” They shot a teasing look at Sehyoon.

“Well, I think so,” he shrugged, a small smirk lifting his mouth.

“But yeah, that’s the Byeongkwan personal brand of gender-fluidity. Sometimes I use they and them, but sometimes I’ll refer to myself as he and him, when I’m feeling more masculine. But other people tend to stick to ‘they’ and ‘them’ for me just because… well, changing your pronouns every few weeks is a massive inconvenience.” They laughed, putting up a hand to cover their mouth.

“I understand,” Donghun said with a slow nod. This was all new to him. “But if you ever do want to change them, you can let me know.” He smiled. “No inconvenience here.”

“Thanks! To be honest, only people closest to me tend to follow my changing pronouns. Sometimes people try to guess where I’m at just from what clothes I’m wearing or something… but that’s bullshit because clothes have no gender anyway.”

“Yes!” Sehyoon lit up, and then seemed to shrink at the dual attention that turned to him. “I mean… I’m not gender-fluid but you know… Sometimes I wear outfits with lace or so-called ‘girls’ accessories’ and I… It’s stupid. Anyone can wear anything they like. It’s just a bit of fabric.” He frowned. “Sometimes when I draw characters, people will argue their gender because of pure appearance.” He rolled his eyes. “But I just carry on drawing my girls with cargo pants and boys with sparkly leggings, so…”

Donghun had to hide a smile behind his hand at the way Byeongkwan practically fizzled at that. Their eyes lit up entirely.

“Can I see your art?”

“S-sure.” Sehyoon barely managed to answer before Byeongkwan was sliding their cup across and slipping onto the stool next to Sehyoon.

Still smiling, Donghun delicately extricated himself from conversation and let them talk. He adjusted the volume of the music playing from his phone and dimmed the lights a little further, leaving Byeongkwan and Sehyoon chatting excitably about art and creating, like they had known each other a lifetime.

The evening grew late and the clock hands ticked beyond midnight. Outside, a cloudless sky mirrored the fairy lights of 34 Sycamore Street by twinkling back a scattering of stars. Donghun lit the new tealights he had brought for each table, each flame a flickering topaz glow.

In between customers, he tinkered with the ingredients he kept behind the counter. He had bought a new book on tea brewing, and he had a whole array of herbs and spices to play with. He made up experimental cups, sipping each one thoughtfully before jotting notes in his journal. _Masala chai: ginger is warming, but add more cloves. Russian spiced tea: black tea, cloves and cinnamon work well, pineapple juice a surprisingly pleasant twist, might need more sugar. Or honey?_

As he cleared away his tea-based research, Byeongkwan and Sehyoon both slipped back into their jackets and got to their feet.

“Heading off?” Donghun asked, and Byeongkwan smiled.

“Yeah. Going to get something stronger to drink.”

“Oh?” Donghun’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at Sehyoon’s pink face. “Enjoy. Don’t stay out too late…”

“We’ll try,” Byeongkwan winked, and there was something deliciously mischievous about their expression. Donghun watched with amusement as they both headed out into the night, until Byeongkwan’s laughter faded down the street.

Well. That went well.

Donghun snorted softly as he cleared away their empty cups. It looked like his mysterious ability to judge whether two people would get on was as intact as ever.

“Do you always play matchmaker like that?”

Caught off-guard, Donghun looked up. He blinked, and looked over his shoulder, before returning his gaze to Double Espresso. His headphones were pushed down around his neck and faint amusement coloured his features as he waited for a response.

“Me?” he blurted dumbly, and then tried to pull together his rapidly unravelling threads. “Uh… Sometimes I like to give people a little nudge.” He smiled, trying to stop wobbling in the face of Double Espresso _actually_ speaking to him. “Was it that obvious?”

“A little.” Double Espresso laughed, his entire face splitting into a shining smile, the noise squeaky and unabashed. The sound slapped Donghun around the face in surprise. The persona he’d invented for Double Espresso was moody and reserved – but here he was chuckling as he leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes crinkling.

“Well, eavesdropping sure took the load off from trying to work,” the boy continued, shaking his head with an amused smile as he glanced at his screen.

“Glad to take your mind off things.” Donghun paused. His heart was beating a little too fast. “What’s work for you?”

“Oh well, by day I’m a journalist. Freelance stuff.” Double Espresso smiled down at his laptop. “But it’s just a paycheck. I want to be a musician… so I come here to write music.” He cocked his head, still smiling. “Do I sound like every other douchey hipster in Seoul yet?”

Donghun shook his head, swallowing hard. God, he wished his heart would stop thumping.

_A musician. A musician who came to late-night cafés after his nine-to-five to create. All those nights, he’d been writing songs…_

“What kind of music?” Donghun asked, realising he had to get _something_ out of his damned mouth.

“I’ll experiment with anything! But I’m always listening to hip-hop, chill-hop, Latin… I guess those show through a bit. A bit of piano stuff too, when I have the time to play.”

“It sounds amazing.” Donghun leaned on the counter, watching Double Espresso laugh self-effacingly and rub his neck. Oh fuck, he wasn’t just pretty, he was _cute_ …

“I’m not sure about that. But it’s a dream, and we’ve all got to have one, right?” The boy chuckled softly. “Perhaps I’m past the age of breaking into making music, I mean I was born in ’91, I might be past my prime…”

Donghun’s heart skipped. He looked young for thirty-one – Donghun has assumed he was younger than his own twenty-nine years.

“Nonsense. I was stuck in the world’s worst corporate office before I set this place up. It’s never too late.”

The boy met his eyes and smiled. “Well, I’m glad you did.” Another flutter of Donghun’s heart. “Well, I guess I better head home. More ‘corporate office’ for me tomorrow.” He winked, tucking away his laptop and getting to his feet. “Not to make it sound like I always eavesdrop, but… It’s Donghun, right?”

Donghun felt his face go warm. “Yeah, it is. You’re..?”

“Junhee.” Double Espresso – _Junhee_ – shrugged on his leather jacket. “Sorry I’ve never said much before. I mean, I’m sure you hardly noticed me lurking in the corner.” He laughed, and Donghun wanted to snort at the irony. “Well, goodnight. See you again soon, Donghun.”

“Goodnight… Junhee.”

Donghun fought it. He fought it all the while Junhee left the shop. He fought it as he turned up his collar and headed off down the street. But the _second_ he was out of view, a smile bled across Donghun’s face.

Okay so it wasn’t much. But he knew his _name._ Double Espresso was no longer Double Espresso! Junhee… He hid his widening smile behind his hand. It had felt like a pretty name to say. And he knew this crush wasn’t leading anywhere – it was just a cute customer, for God’s sake – but it had been such a long time since Donghun had had a crush that he had begun to yearn for yearning itself.

The last couple of hours slipped by like espresso through a filter, until 3am rolled around and Donghun cleared down and locked up. A yawn escaped his throat as he headed between the café and home, his eyes watering with tiredness. Some nights he found it hard to sleep straight after work and would stay up another hour or two, but tonight wasn’t going to be one of those nights.

He undressed as he walked across his apartment, leaving clothes pooled in a trail behind him. He stepped into the shower and closed his eyes, pulling his blonde hair loose and letting water stream through it. Once clean, he sat naked on his bedroom floor, humming at the warmth of the hairdryer as it whipped water from his hair. Finally clean and cosy, he practically launched himself into bed, sighing as the silken sheets kissed his body.

He checked social media, replied to a couple of texts from friends who would certainly be sleeping, and then turned onto his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

Two thoughts pervaded as he shut his eyes.

_Junhee._ Handsome, cute Junhee, the budding musician. Ah – a little crush was so much more fun when it had some backstory.

But as giggly as that had made him, on the brink of sleep he couldn’t help but think about Yuchan and his boyfriend. The man’s rude manner, his curtness… Donghun sighed, wishing he could push away the niggling feeling of discontent. He should stop prying – after all, he didn’t know Yuchan’s partner at all. He should stop making snap judgements about people and fret less about his customers.

Hae hopped up on the bed and broke his train of thought. He smiled as she turned twice to pad down the duvet, and curled against his arm. Together, they closed their eyes and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading Chapter 3; I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I have felt quite apprehensive about posting this chapter with its gender chat. I don't know why, it's just it doesn't come up in fics that often, and *Byeongkwan's personal brand of gender fluidity* is actually *The Indigo Dragonfly's personal brand of gender fluidity*. Write what you know, as they say.
> 
> Thank you so much to those have you who have left kind comments so far - they really do make me keep writing, especially on the days I feel like giving up. 
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly
> 
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/IndiDragonfly)


	4. Jasmine Tea

There were busy nights, and there were quiet nights. Donghun liked them both: busy nights were good for his income, quiet nights were good for his soul.

Sunday nights were often the quieter ones, when customers felt they should at least start their new working week fresh and well rested. By Wednesday they’d have all given up again, and would be back to drinking caffeine at midnight. It worked for him, because Monday was his day off, and by Sunday he was always very ready to sleep away half the day and spend the night seeing friends, or vegging out in sweatpants.

Lone customers drifted in and out, and the only group were a table of four sat in one corner. They were young, and as the night wore on, increasingly frazzled.

Donghun retied the apron around his waist and headed over to their table.

“Sorry to interrupt…” he said, glancing at the textbooks and notes spread over their table.

“ _Please_ interrupt.” One of the girls sat back with an exaggerated flop, staring vacantly at the table. “My eyeballs are about to fall out my face.”

Donghun snorted. “That bad, huh?” He tilted his head at the book in her lap. “Forensic Psychology? Ouch.”

“Ouch. Double ouch. Triple ouch.” The girl looked up at him with helpless eyes. “My brain hurts.”

“Malivalaya, you’re so dramatic.” The boy next to her gave her a nudge with his elbow.

“I am not!” Malivalaya pouted. “I’m just so _tired_. It’s midnight and I don’t want to be reading about differences in psychopathy measure scoring and predictive validity.”

“If it makes you all feel better,” Donghun said, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t even know what you just said.”

The students all grinned, despite their tired eyes.

“We’ve got a big exam next week,” said the girl opposite Malivalaya, picking her fingernails. She looked exhausted, like she could do with a day in bed. “There’s a lot of pressure.”

Donghun felt a pang of sympathy. He remembered the late nights and early mornings, and the stiffness in his neck from hours leaned over a textbook.

“Well I was going to just ask if I can clear anything away for you, but…” He reached for the cups. “You all sound like you need some more fuel. Let me get you some refills – it’s on the house.”

“Really?” The boy looked up, his eyes wide.

“Yeah.” Donghun smiled as they all murmured their gratitude. “It’ll help you keep going. You were all drinking black americanos, right? Don’t want anything more fancy?”

“It’d be wasted,” Malivalaya chuckled. “Coffee! Black! Strong! It’s all we need. Ah, thank you so much. I’m so broke this month.”

Donghun headed back to the counter to fix the drinks, happy to provide the liquid energy the psychologists-in-training so desperately needed. With fresh coffee they went back to their studies, and Donghun cleaned down the machine as the door chime announced a new customer.

“Well, here’s trouble.” Donghun grinned, and Makoto returned it.

“I’ve never caused a day of trouble in my life!” They leaned on the counter, green hair curling around their ears like a fantasy character. There were blue feathers woven into it today. “How’s things with you?”

“Really good. What about you?”

“Yeah… Really good. Actually, me and Mirae made our relationship official.” Makoto flushed with a smile. “It’s kind of… my first proper relationship.”

“No way! That’s awesome!” Donghun lit up with delight. “Congrats, Makoto.”

“Thanks. It took us a little while… But we got there. And I’m glad we took our time.”

Donghun smiled warmly. He knew what Makoto meant – Mirae was their best friend, and had come out as trans last year. Makoto had been there to support him every step of the way, and somewhere along the line their relationship had deepened. But Mirae had needed more time to focus on his own transition before he could focus on anyone else – it warmed Donghun’s heart to know that they had reached a happy place together, with time.

“Can I get a hot chocolate to take out?”

“You can of course.” Donghun took a silver jug and began to gently steam some milk, melting rich chocolate into the bottom of the takeout cup at the same time.

“I, er, I’m sorry for going off on one last time I was here.” Makoto tucked back their hair and gave a guilty smile as Donghun glanced up. “I was in a bad mood but shouldn’t have ranted.”

“Hey, enough of that.” Donghun finished up the drink with a sprinkle of chocolate in the shape of a heart. “You’re proud of your Japanese…ness.” Makoto chuckled. “Social media drives me mad too. I get it.”

“Yeah. It’s like it shouldn’t bother me but… it does.” Makoto sipped their drink and sighed. “But yeah, took a little hiatus, and it’s all good. Thanks for being there to hear my vent.”

“Any time you need coffee and a chat, I’m here.” Donghun raised a hand as Makoto turned to leave. “You and Mirae take care, okay?”

“We will,” Makoto said, flashing a grin over their shoulder as they headed back out into the night.

God, everyone was so in love.

Caught up on the scent of chocolate, Donghun made himself a hot cocoa as quiet fell back over the café. He sat down behind the counter, leaning on the wooden top and scrolling through Instagram on his phone. Someone he knew from military service had got engaged. He lingered over the photo. He and his new fiancé looked so happy. Donghun sighed.

Most of the accounts he followed were coffee related, or cat related. Some music and art, too. That was all it took to keep him happy. His idea of utopia was sitting in a cosy armchair with a cat on his lap, a vinyl playing on the turntable, rain pattering on the window and a cup of hot coffee steaming between his hands. Maybe that’s how he’d spend his day off tomorrow…

“I don’t want to interrupt the internet cats…”

Donghun jumped so violently he nearly fell from his stool, clutching desperately at the counter to steady himself.

Junhee’s eyes widened and he jerked a hand towards Donghun’s arm to catch him.

Oh, the way Donghun’s face went scarlet was instant.

“Ah… Sorry,” he cringed, closing his Instagram and getting to his feet. “I was totally in my own world.”

Junhee giggled _–_ _giggled_ , Donghun thought? Jesus, this man. “It’s okay. I get the same way when I’m looking at cute dogs.”

“You’re a dog person? I guess no one’s perfect…” Donghun replied before he’d even had time to process his own sentence. Junhee’s smile turned confused, and he cocked his head in question. If Donghun’s face went any hotter, he would combust on the spot. “Sorry, I mean…”

“It’s okay. Stop digging a hole.” Junhee winked as he slid into a stool, and Donghun gave something between a guilty grin and a grimace.

“What can I get you?” he asked, knowing full-well what the answer would be.

“A double espresso, please.”

Donghun turned to fetch an espresso cup as Junhee tugged out his laptop. He made the drink with his usual care, and expected to find Junhee clamped inside his usual silver headphones. Instead, he looked up with a smile, thanked Donghun for his coffee, and leaned his chin in one hand as he clicked absently around his computer.

Donghun went into internal crisis.

He should leave him alone, shouldn’t he? But last time he was here, they spoke… Should he chat to him again? But Junhee had initiated it that time… Ugh, _why_ was he even thinking about this! It was just a nice-looking customer! This was a café, not a speed-dating venue. Just act normal! But what was normal..? Should he ask about his music, should he-

“How’s the café been this week?” Junhee asked, glancing up from his screen. Donghun froze his internal monologue. “Set up any other couples?”

Donghun blushed and grinned. “Not yet, but I’m always keeping an eye out.” Hm, perhaps that sounded a little suggestive. Come _on,_ Donghun. “Those two from the other night haven’t been back since… So it could have been a disaster for all I know.”

Junhee chuckled. “I doubt it.”

A pause lingered between them as Junhee sipped his coffee, giving an appreciative sigh. Donghun paused.

“How’s the music?” He picked up his own mug and swirled it nonchalantly.

“Yeah, good!” Junhee’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “I mean, it’s more fun when I can come here and zone out and drink coffee and _focus_.”

“How long have you been making music?”

“For as long as I can remember.” Junhee tilted down his laptop screen and leaned on his elbows, smiling at Donghun. “My parents made me take piano lessons when I was little, but instead of practicing the scales and things I was supposed to, I would always write my own little tunes.” He laughed. “I started reading lots about composing when I was a teenager, but it dwindled off when I did my service. After that, I really got back into it.”

“That’s awesome,” Donghun murmured. “So you just… make up music from nowhere?”

“Yeah!” Junhee seemed to glow with his own excitement, and Donghun couldn’t help his eyes softening. “I don’t know… I’m not very good at many things, but I’m good at music. Or… well, I’m at least competent.” Junhee sipped his espresso. “It’s like the one thing in my life I’ve always loved. It’s always been there. When I’ve had good times or when I’ve been down… Making music makes me feel good.”

“I get that,” Donghun replied, trying to hide the skipped heartbeat from appearing in his voice. “I feel like that about here… I know a coffee shop sounds like a weird passion, but… It’s mine.” He gave an embarrassed smile and Junhee met his gaze.

“That’s not weird at all. A passion isn’t always something like ‘music’ or ‘art’. Your passion is creating a safe slice of home.” Junhee smiled. “I think that’s very cute.”

Donghun coughed as his coffee went down the wrong way.

“I’m glad you think so,” he laughed, trying to joke it off. “But seriously, it’s really cool, what you’re trying to do.”

“Thanks, Donghun.” Junhee glanced at his screen, then back at Donghun. “Do you… do you wanna hear something I made?”

Donghun’s eyes widened. Junhee’s face was hopeful, and touched with something a little shyer. He smiled.

“Yeah. Show me.”

After only a moment’s hesitation, Donghun picked up his hot chocolate and moved around the other side of the counter. Junhee moved his jacket from the stool beside him and Donghun slipped onto it, accepting the headphones Junhee held out for him. He put them over his ears and waited.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

Summery beats opened the song and gave way to muted acoustic chords, and a strong male voice.

_Sometimes when I see you  
For some reason, I’m surprised  
I can’t help my heart feeling this way  
I still see you  
Baby falling down, down…_

Donghun smiled, and looked up to find Junhee watching his face closely, his lip bitten.

_You’re the girl of my life  
You’re the one, my love  
You’re my blue ocean eyes  
I’m coming to you now_

_You’re my only one in this endless wandering,  
Clover, my clover…_

As the song ended, Donghun gently pushed the headphones down around his neck. Junhee still watched him apprehensively.

“Okay so, when you said you make music,” Donghun said slowly, “I didn’t think you meant you composed, and wrote lyrics, and _sang_ …” He looked incredulously at Junhee. “That song is amazing!”

“Ah, you think? Thanks,” Junhee said with a grin.

“Seriously…” Donghun took off the headphones, suddenly aware of how closely they were sat. “Your lyrics are beautiful.” He hesitated. “Whoever the “girl of your life” is, she’s a lucky woman…”

“Oh! She doesn’t exist.” Junhee laughed, closing his laptop. Donghun blinked, and then his belly clenched with pure relief. He forced himself to push it away. “But yeah… Music’s my passion. Even if I never make anything of myself, I’m just glad to have something I love so much.” He smiled at Donghun, pushing back his dark hair. “So, how did you come to set this place up?”

Donghun couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat and talked to a customer. Sure, he talked to customers all the _time_ ; he knew half their life stories, who was dating who, who was studying what, who was happy or pissed off or down on their luck. But it was a rare thing for him to sit with his own drink at the counter, on a quiet night, and begin to entirely lose track of the time.

With a little gentle questioning, Donghun began to tell Junhee about how he had first come to establish 34 Sycamore Street. He told him about graduating in Business and feeling uninspired, going into the military and feeling supressed, and starting work and feeling directionless. He talked about his grandpa leaving him a chunk of money in his will, and how that was when he had made the decision: he was going to use it to buy a store.

“Oh, and it was a _mess._ ” Donghun smiled as he quickly cleared the cups from the table just vacated by one of the last remaining customers. “It hadn’t been occupied in months, and there was just… Trash. And dust. And spiders. _Everywhere_.”

“So how’d you do this?” Junhee looked around the café with curious eyes. “Did someone design it for you?”

“Ah… no. It was me.” Junhee’s eyebrows rose. “Well, it was my vision. I knew how I wanted it. And then I pulled in every favour from every friend I’ve ever known to get it done.” He looked down at the dregs of his cocoa with a wistful smile. “We worked so hard to get it ready to open that I didn’t even have time to come up with a name. That’s why I decided to, well, leave it with what it already had.”

“34 Sycamore Street.” Junhee smiled. “Well you did amazingly. This is the best café in Seoul.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” Donghun shook his head, his ears going pink. “But I’m happy here. It’s my little dream. And it’s what I love most: coffee and talking to people.”

“And helping people with their problems..?” Junhee added with a smirk, and Donghun laughed.

“And sometimes helping people with their problems, yes.”

The last remaining customer headed into the night, and Donghun barely noticed him leaving. He and Junhee swapped stories from their military service, and talked about where they had grown up, and Junhee told him about his journalism day job. As Donghun made them both a pot of jasmine tea, he asked to hear more music, and Junhee let him listen to something thus far incomplete.

“I’ve been working on it for a while… But I just can’t find the right lyrics. Every time I write some lines, I end up chucking them out…”

Donghun held the headphones closer to his ears. Unlike Junhee’s other songs, this one was a simple, bittersweet piano piece. Beautifully played, beautifully composed.

“Well, it’s beautiful as it is.” Donghun paused, looking at Junhee’s shocked expression. “What is it?”

“Uh, I’m really sorry. What time do you close?!”

Donghun frowned. “Three, why do you..?” He trailed off as he followed Junhee’s eyeline to the clock.

_Ten past three._

“I’m so sorry for keeping you!” Junhee got to his feet, looking mortified. “God, you must be desperate for me to leave!”

“No, no, don’t worry!” Donghun laughed, holding out a placating hand. “Honestly. I didn’t even realise the time.” He glanced around the empty coffee shop. “I, erm, I need to close up but… You can stay and chat, if you don’t mind me cashing up and things around you..?”

Donghun’s heart fluttered in apprehension as Junhee looked up at him.

“If you’re sure?” he said, a smile on his lips. “It would be a shame to let this tea go to waste…”

They continued talking as Donghun cashed up, and Junhee finished the tea. As Donghun cleared their cups, Junhee stood up.

“How can I help?” he asked, brushing his hands together.

Donghun swatted his offer away. “Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not just going to watch you clean up while I sit here,” Junhee scoffed.

“You’re a customer.”

“It’s half three, you’re closed, you have no customers.” Donghun shot a look at Junhee, and couldn’t help but smile at his triumphant expression. “Got you.”

“Fine.” Donghun tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I guess you can sweep up.”

“Yes sir.”

Cleaning down was infinitely faster with two people, even if Donghun felt bad about it. Soon, they both put on their jackets and headed out into the night, with Donghun flipping the sign to closed and locking the door behind them.

“Which way do you go?” Junhee said, readjusting his bag straps.

“Ah, actually, this is me.” Donghun stopped outside the door to his apartment and surprise crossed Junhee’s face.

“No way! Well, that’s incredibly convenient.” He smiled, tilting his head. “Goodnight then. It was nice to talk tonight. Guess I’ll see you here soon?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon…”

Donghun watched as Junhee raised a cheerful hand in goodbye and headed off down Sycamore Street. Trying to calm his racing thoughts, he let himself into his apartment and headed up the stairs.

Once inside, he fell down gracelessly on his sofa.

Soon enough, a little nose nudged his ankle curiously. He sat up with a sigh, scooped up Hae and lay back down with her on his chest. She purred loudly, rubbing her whiskers on his neck.

“Help me, Hae,” he whined. “I have a big fat crush on a customer.”

Hae nipped his ear lobe, tugging on one earring with her little teeth, oblivious to Donghun’s giddy emotions.

He stroked her with a sigh. Tonight had been… What had it been? Fun? Exciting? Just plain _nice?_ All of those things, and more, on a night where he had expected to work, and read, and probably count the hours until his day off. And Junhee – oh, dear Double Espresso – was he still just a cute customer?

Donghun sighed dramatically. No, it was time to face the music. Donghun was straight-up crushing on him.

Still, he forced himself to cling on to rationality. Maybe Junhee just wanted someone to talk to. Maybe he wanted a friend. And that was fine. That was great! Donghun was more than happy with a new friend.

And besides…

_You’re the girl in my life…_

Oh, wasn’t it just Donghun’s luck. Of _course_ the gorgeous, kind, interesting musician would be _straight_.

Hae meowed sweetly, and Donghun opened his eyes, smiling at her beady eyes. “Okay, okay, Dad’s coming to feed you. Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the award for the most useless flirt goes to Lee Donghun...
> 
> (Even better that I just mistyped 'award' as 'awkward'... quite.)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading chapter 4! I'm honestly so thrilled that people are enjoying the story so far, I', having so much fun writing. After Neverland was so vast and *action-y*, it's a total contrast to write Sycamore Street and I'm really having fun.
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos and kind comments, as always - they make me such a warm, happy Dragonfly.
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly


	5. Espresso con Panna

Donghun was humming.

Humming as he made the coffee, humming as he cleaned the machine, humming as he spritzed his plants with water. He wasn’t aware, of course, but it was in harmony with the lazy lo-fi that ebbed through the coffee shop, and it came with a permanent faint smile on his face.

“Hey, dreamer.” Donghun’s thought bubble popped like a cartoon character, and he turned from his plant watering to find Nerlande leaning on the counter with a smile and an eyebrow raised. “I was just bringing over my cup and saying thanks for the coffee.. But I almost didn’t want to interrupt your little song.”

“Song..?” Donghun echoed. His ears went warm. “I was humming, wasn’t I..?”

Nerlande tittered. “You were. You seem very happy.”

“Oh! I am, I… I had a good night’s sleep and a good day.” He flashed a smile, and Nerlande nodded once like she didn’t believe a word. “Take care on your way home – and stay warm!”

“I will. See you, Donghun!”

Donghun watched her leave, drumming his fingers on the counter. Even after having his awareness brought to it, he couldn’t help the little smile creeping back onto his face.

He had slept well, and he _had_ had a good day. But there was more to the airiness in his steps, and the tune never far from his lips. Since their conversation until the early hours of the morning just over a week ago, Junhee had been back to visit again, and once more they had talked until all the other customers had left. The café had been a little busier that night, so their conversation had been snatched between Donghun doing his work, and Junhee writing his music – but it had still made his heart beat harder and his head swim dizzily.

And okay, so it didn’t _mean_ anything. Donghun just enjoyed his company, and enjoyed their conversations about music and coffee and fashion, and he enjoyed letting his eyes linger over Junhee when the other boy was absorbed in his laptop.

Regardless of what it did or didn’t mean, it was making him happier than he’d expected.

The door tinkled and Donghun looked up from his private thoughts.

“Evening, Byeongkwan… Oh! Sehyoon, too.”

Donghun raised his eyebrows as the two came in together. Byeongkwan’s mouth was curled up into an impish smile, and amusement flickered around Sehyoon’s features at some private joke.

“Hey, Donghun.” Byeongkwan leaned on the counter and glanced at Sehyoon. “Whatchu want?”

“Hm? Oh, you order first.”

“Stop being a gentleman, you bought breakfast yesterday.”

“Fine… A cappuccino with almond milk, please.”

“Make that two.” Byeongkwan tapped their card in payment. “How’s things with you, Donghun?”

“Really good. You both been creating up a storm in your artsy worlds?”

Sehyoon smiled. “Trying to.”

“Mh.” Byeongkwan nodded with a pout of their lips. “Been trying to find some time for a little less work, a little more pleasure.”

Donghun didn’t need to look up from making the coffees to be aware of the impudent grin on Byeongkwan’s face, nor sense the nudge of an elbow from Sehyoon. He snorted softly as he finished their drinks.

“Well, we all need a little… _release_ from the pressure, now and then,” he said, arching an eyebrow. Sehyoon’s cheeks went noticeably pink and he accepted his coffee by way of distraction. The two creatives took up their places on stools at the counter and Donghun left them to their conversation.

Well. He’d bet the whole coffee shop that they’d been fucking every night since he introduced them.

Amused and a little gratified that his matchmaking had paid off, he served two takeout customers before another familiar face made an appearance. This one brought with it a flurry in his belly.

“Oh hey!” Donghun smiled, tilting his head. God, was the excitement _that_ obvious in his voice? But when Junhee returned his smile, his eyes crinkling in that damned handsome way they did, any concerns went flying out the café window. He took his usual seat. “How’s your day been?”

“Oh, you know… Journalism-ing real good. I finally finished that review I told you about.” Junhee’s eyes flickered to Donghun’s arms and lingered there, and self-consciousness hit him like a freight train. He always wore long sleeves but had opted for a t-shirt today, and the tattoos on both arms were out on display. Was Junhee shocked? Did he hate them? “Wow, your tattoos… They’re so pretty.”

Pretty.

Pretty?

_Pretty._

In another world Donghun would have giggled, and played with his hair, and made some coy, flirty comment. What he actually did was deflect. Hard.

“Ah! Thanks.. Um, Sehyoon, you have a cool tattoo on your wrist too, right?”

“Huh?” Sehyoon looked up from his conversation with Byeongkwan, and then smiled. “Ah! Yeah. A little robot.” He pulled back his sleeve. “Not a patch on yours though, Donghun. I had no idea you had so much cool ink.”

“Ha! Well, you know… You gotta have some hobbies when you’re living alone with your cat.” Wow. _That_ was how he was going to sell himself?

When he managed to find the courage to glance back at Junhee, he found the musician watching him with an amused smile, his dark eyes glittering with something unreadable.

“Uh… Double espresso?” Donghun asked, very keen to shift attention away from himself. Junhee lit up.

“You remembered!”

Donghun took the opportunity to turn his back and regain his composure. Sehyoon and Byeongkwan chattered away, and Junhee, as always, placed his laptop on the counter. Donghun tamped the coffee with the wooden instrument before locking in the portafilter, and waited as thick espresso flowed down into the little cup. Complex richness filled the air and Donghun inhaled deeply.

“Did you watch the Iris van Herpen show from New York?” Junhee asked as he accepted his drink. Donghun’s eyes lit up.

“God, did I.” He let out a groan. “It was _perfection_. That lilac and blue gown with the-”

“With the layering! Fuck. So stunning.”

On their two nights of late conversation, Donghun had discovered a passion for fashion in Junhee nearly as deep-seated as his own. It made sense; he was always well-dressed, perfectly accessorised and wearing clothes that accentuated his body type.

“It makes me wish I had couture gowns to float around in.” Junhee chuckled. “Not sure I’d manage those crazy platform heels they had, though…”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Donghun readjusted his ponytail. “I think you could pull off a floaty designer dress and some stilettos.”

He turned away to bid goodnight to a pair of customers on their way out, but not before he caught the hint of a blush on Junhee’s face.

His attention was tugged away, however, by the girl who walked into the coffee shop. Donghun couldn’t help it – he should be used to this by now, but still his eyebrows shot up in surprise. The girl’s hair was cherry red to her waist, and it matched the slick glossy smile that curled her lips like a cat. Despite the chill that had settled over Seoul at this hour, she was dressed in a tiny lacey dress that clung to her body and left her legs exposed. A short fur coat was thrown around her as the only protection from the weather, but it slipped from one shoulder to show off a tattoo of a rose.

“Sungmi, it’s been a while…”

“Donghun, darling!” Sungmi swept across the café in whirl of spiced perfume and almond body oil, adjusting her coat only for it to slip again. As she approached the counter Donghun noticed every single gaze in the café had been drawn to her. “I need something strong and potent tonight!”

“You’ve come to the right place.” Donghun fetched down a takeout cup – Sungmi always had her espresso con panna to go.

“Oh… Well _hi_.” As Donghun began to ready the machine, Sungmi pointed at the stool next to Junhee and gave her catlike smile. “Can I sit with you while I wait?”

“Hm? Sure!” Junhee shifted his things, and Sungmi slipped onto the seat, her eyes not leaving Junhee’s face.

“So, what’s your name? I’ve not seen you here before… and I’d remember a face like that.”

“Ah! Uh, Junhee. And you?”

“Sungmi! Some people call me Mia.” It was a girlish purr. “It’s _really_ nice to meet you, Junhee.”

If Donghun squeezed this portafilter handle any harder, it was going to splinter.

Sungmi asked Junhee about what he was working on, and Junhee seemed more than happy to talk about his music. When he joked, Sungmi laughed with a touch of his arm… then his hand… Donghun caught Byeongkwan and Sehyoon throw an amused expression Junhee’s way.

The takeout cup crumpled under Donghun’s grip.

With a whispered curse, he grabbed a new one, and focussed on making the drink. A dark scowl had settled over his face, even though he knew he was being entirely unreasonable. Junhee could flirt with whoever he wanted to flirt with… However, he shot a glance at Sungmi’s shameless advances and decided he didn’t care. That was _his_ favourite person to flirt with, damn it.

“Your coffee.” Donghun slid the drink to Sungmi, stealing a look at Junhee to try and gauge whether he was interested. He wore an easy smile, and his ears were a little pink. _Damn_ it!

“Thanks, darling.” Sungmi stood up, blowing a kiss at Donghun. “Well, I’ll be back soon. Duty calls!” She gave a delicate wave of her fingers in Junhee’s direction and turned to leave.

“Wow.” If Byeongkwan’s eyebrows rose any higher, they were going to disappear into their space-buns. “Looks like you have an admirer.” They grinned down the counter at Junhee.

Junhee waved it away, his blush deepening. “Maybe…”

“Are you kidding? She was hitting on you so hard.” Byeongkwan snickered.

“She’s not my type.” Junhee sipped his espresso, eyes back on his laptop screen. “Even if I was into women, I don’t think she’d be my type.” A small smile hooked up the corners of his mouth, even though his attention remained focussed on the music program. “I’m into quieter, hipster-y types. The cute ones.”

Donghun hadn’t even noticed that the glass of water he was filling up had reached the brim and spilled over. He caught himself with a jolt and grabbed a cloth to mop up the mess.

_Even if I was into women._

Donghun wouldn’t have been surprised if his heartbeat were audible halfway across the café.

“Mm. I _am_ into women and she was extremely hot but… I’m definitely not one to judge on clothes, but it’s cold out!” Byeongkwan laughed and Sehyoon snorted softly.

“You sound like a middle-aged person…”

“Hey! Shut it, you.”

Donghun’s prissiness cooled a notch. He sighed, wiping down the counter carefully and then leaning on it with his forearms.

“Yeah. Sungmi’s a stripper.”

“A..?” Byeongkwan’s angular eyes widened, and then they looked horrified. “Shit, I didn’t mean to sound like I was shaming her outfit!”

“No, no, I didn’t think you were.” Donghun smiled, and grew aware of Junhee’s curious gaze on his face as well as Byeongkwan and Sehyoon’s. “It _is_ cold outside, she needs a damn jumper for when she’s on break.”

“She’s young, for a stripper, isn’t she..?” Byeongkwan asked, and Donghun paused. All of his earlier jealousy evaporated and his usual worries for Sungmi returned. He sighed.

“She’s nineteen, I think? I worry about her.” He hesitated. “She’s a sex worker. I know I can say that because she makes no bones about it and would tell you herself – and why shouldn’t she? There’s no shame in it.”

“Wait, wait, what do you mean?” Byeongkwan stared. “She’s like… What? A..?”

“She does more than work in a strip club. Yeah.”

“Oh.” Byeongkwan sat back, their eyes still saucers. “ _Oh_. Fuck, she’s a bit young for that, isn’t she? Is she in danger? Is it like… something she can’t get out of?”

“That’s a bit presumptuous.” Donghun glanced at Sehyoon in surprise. He wore his normal gentle expression, his fingers playing with Byeongkwan’s on top of the bar. “I know some sex workers might be forced into it or trafficked, but not all of them. It can be a career choice.” He shrugged. “But I know what you mean. I hope she’s safe. It’s not exactly the most regulated industry.”

“Well that’s exactly it.” Donghun sat on the stool on his side of the counter. “They cracked down on prostitution and closed all the brothels in 2004 but sex work didn’t magically go away… It was just driven underground, with lower prices and less protection.” He shrugged.

“I’ve… really never thought about it like that.” Byeongkwan sipped their drink. “I mean, like to be honest? I’ve always just thought of prostitution as just… You know, a bit grotty. Like women with no choice, and gross men. I thought they made it illegal to get the women out of those situations.”

“I understand why you’d think that.” Sehyoon nodded slowly. “That just isn’t the reality. I mean, nearly 25% of adult men in Korea have… _engaged_ with a prostitute…”

“They have?” They all glanced at Junhee, whose eyes were wide. “So like… one in four?!”

“Yup.” Sehyoon smiled, his eyes amused. “So making it illegal isn’t making it stop. All it does it make it less regulated, and less safe for the workers. Women _and_ men _and_ non-binary workers alike.”

“Huh.” Byeongkwan nodded, looking thoughtful. “I suppose so. I mean, people aren’t ever going to _not_ pay for sex stuff, are they?”

“It’s the oldest profession for a reason. And why shouldn’t they? Why is society fine with people paying for porn, and paying porn stars to recreate sex for camera, but they’re not fine with two consenting adults having sex as a service?”

Byeongkwan stared at Sehyoon, and Donghun could have sworn he physically saw the light bulb come on over their head. “Holy fuck, I love hanging out with you and your brain…” they said slowly, shaking their head in wonder. Sehyoon laughed, looking down into his coffee cup.

“You’re definitely not the only one not to put much thought into it.” He glanced up at the wooden clock on the wall. “Reckon we should get going.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the coffee and enlightenment, Donghun!”

They headed off and Donghun cleared their cups. He got caught talking to another customer for a little while, and as he returned to the counter, Junhee got to his feet as well.

“Leaving so soon tonight?” Donghun asked, making his own toes curl with the blatant note of disappointment in his voice. 

“Yeah… Really early start tomorrow.” Junhee pushed back his bangs and met Donghun’s eyes. “Actually, I… I want to give you this.”

Donghun blinked in surprise at the USB stick Junhee held out to him.

“I made it. For you.” Junhee smiled as Donghun took the little silver device. “I composed a couple of lo-fi songs. And you’re always playing lo-fi here, so I figured…” He fidgeted. “Not saying you have to play them here! Just thought you might like them.”

“That’s… that’s really sweet of you.” Donghun couldn’t help his giddy smile, any more than he could help the thumping of his heart. Junhee lingered, his pretty eyes creased in a smile and travelling just once more over Donghun’s tattoos.

“You can tell me next time if they’re not even close to your lo-fi expert standards..!”

“I’m sure they’re perfect…”

“Well… I’ll see you soon, then.”

Junhee lingered, and Donghun yearned so hard in that three second pause that his body physically ached.

He watched Junhee go, unashamedly letting his gaze eat up his long legs in his tight jeans, and the exposed skin at the nape of his neck, and his delicate little hand as he pushed open the door. His heart was still thudding in his ears.

Donghun wasn’t the sort to count the hours until the end of work. After all, Sycamore Street hardly felt like work – it was his livelihood, just another slice of his life. But tonight he counted every _second_ , because he wanted to shut the doors, and run upstairs to his apartment, and listen to these songs.

Half-past-two crept around, and Donghun decided to call it a night. He finished the lockup in record time, taking the steps up to home two at a time. Hae was fast asleep in her wicker basket, and he grabbed his laptop and jumped on his bed without even turning on the light.

The device loaded up and showed him four untitled MP3s. He took the headphones slung over the corner of the headboard and clicked them into the jack, lay on his back, and listened.

There was an ease to Junhee’s music. The beats and melodies ebbed and flowed, no hint of hurry nor trying too hard. Like beautiful prose written by an author who doesn’t even have to try, the songs just worked – layers of soothing sound kneading the listener’s heart with satisfying simplicity. Each song was stamped with a signature – something Donghun could identify as uniquely _Junhee’s,_ even though he couldn’t even pinpoint what that was.

His music sounded like coffee, and warm rain, and languid mornings in bed.

At the end of the third song, Donghun realised he had been repeatedly holding his breath, keen not to let even his own inhalations distract him from the music. His breath caught a final time when the fourth song started, and the tone shifted. He recognised the piece of music from hearing it once before – it was the piano piece Junhee had shown him that first night they had talked, the one he hadn’t been able to put lyrics too. In Donghun’s mind, it didn’t even need them. It was perfect as it was.

As the song came to an end, Donghun tugged off his headphones, and reached to close the laptop.

He stared up at the ceiling, his heart still beating hard.

The nights talking about shared passions until the early hours over dark espresso. Junhee’s smile; the way he had lingered, holding out the USB. The skip in Donghun’s chest when Junhee had said he was into boys – _I’m into quiet, hipster-y types. The cute ones._ The way his eyes skated over Donghun’s tattoos. His dark eyes and his impossible legs and his pretty arms. His little blush at being told he’d look good dressed up.

Breathing out in the dark, Donghun’s fingers met his belt, and he fumbled to yank it open.

He let out a slow whisper of a breath as he danced his fingers into his underwear to take himself out. His body responded immediately, and his eyes shut.

It had been a while. The slow strokes felt good, _fuck_ they felt good, they always did. His body lit up, desperate for release, because this was supposed to happen more than it did. He touched himself far, far less than other young guys his age, he knew that… But doing this made his skin crawl. The pleasure in his groin would always be there, but so would the mess in his head, the anxiety, the feeling of derealisation, ever since-

He forced his thoughts back to Junhee. A whimper escaped his lips as he tightened his grip. He let his thoughts go… go where they wanted.

Just them alone in the café. A sudden kiss, hands on his waist. And more. Junhee’s flushed cheeks as he let his shirt get pulled over his head. His little hands wrenching open Donghun’s jeans and stroking him. No, _more_. Junhee on his knees, Donghun leant back against the counter. Praising him. Seeing him look up through his lashes and suck deeper and-

“ _Nng_!” Donghun’s toes curled against his duvet.

He didn’t like making noise when he did this. It grounded him, broke his fantasy, and it left room for memories to invade. For a moment he grappled with them, desperate to deny them a space in his head…

He locked onto his fantasy, forcing the other thoughts out.

Junhee here with him. Draped underneath him. Chest flushed and lips parted and legs spread.

_My good boy. You look so good for me, touching yourself like that-_

No. No. He forced it out. Not those thoughts, not now. Junhee. Think only of Junhee.

Still underneath him, flushed and pretty. Pretty?

_I think you could pull off a floaty designer dress and some stilettos._

Donghun groaned weakly as his fantasy shifted. Junhee moaning beneath him, pretty lingerie tugged to one side. Lace clinging to his body. Fuck, _fuck…_

Donghun snatched a pillow and yanked it to his body, rolling on top of it and working his hips against it as he tipped over the edge. He cried out, pleasure flooding every inch of his skin.

There was no room for anything else in his head. Just heat, and Junhee, and desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donghun really has it bad...
> 
> Thank you so much for reading another chapter of our story! I'm so happy that you've been enjoying it so far (and consuming many teas and coffees as you read, it would seem!)
> 
> Thank you H for being my sex-worker-in-residence for this chapter. Thank you for fact checking, you're a real goddess and I love you.
> 
> Note: Yes, I titled this specific chapter Espresso con Panna and yes, I knew full well what joke I was making…
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly


	6. Neat Whiskey

Sehyoon and Byeongkwan were becoming part of the furniture.

They sat at the bar late into the night – it was already turning 2am – talking animatedly, the last customers standing. Donghun cleaned around the café, realising he was glad to have the two of them as regulars. He had never asked them what they were; were they dating? In a relationship? There was an overwhelming sense that it didn’t matter: they just _were_ , whatever they were, and they were so happy and relaxed about the whole thing that it felt nothing more or less than two jigsaw pieces slotting together.

Donghun returned to the counter as Byeongkwan was talking animatedly about their job.

“…And we got our first look at the beta in all its glory. And it’s _great_.” Their eyes were sparkling with that bottled passion of someone who loved what they did for a living. “Like our characters, brought to life. With voices and expressions and like, fucking hair that blows in the wind.” They beamed. “It’s the nearest thing to magic, I swear.”

“That’s amazing.” Sehyoon had his chin propped in his hand, enraptured by Byeongkwan’s excitement. Donghun felt a tug of something inside at the sight of that smile, like he was peeking through a window into Sehyoon’s heart. “And Annie is the way you imagined her?”

“Even better. The concept artists, animators… They all captured her perfectly. Down to every last freckle, every scar and mark on her skin…” Byeongkwan sighed. “Another daughter is born.”

They chattered as Donghun served takeout coffees, scents of sweet vanilla syrup and bitter coffee beans chasing one another through the coffee shop. As the customers left, the conversation had turned to Sehyoon’s new apartment, and the plans he had for decorating.

“That’s why I like to live alone, really. I can decorate however I want.”

Donghun sat down on his stool. “I’m the same. Can’t imagine living with anyone but my cat.” He knew by now that Byeongkwan and Sehyoon were glad to have him join their conversations; he never felt bad for intruding.

“Right.” Sehyoon chuckled quietly. “I used to live with three partners. I loved them, but… That’s pretty tough on an introvert.”

“Three p..? _Oh_.” Donghun caught himself rapidly, trying to smooth out his confusion into casual nonchalance. “S-so how come you don’t live together anymore?”

“We broke up.”

Oh. Well, that should have been obvious. _Damn it, Donghun, that was real smooth._

Sehyoon interrupted his self-rebuttal by laughing. “Don’t worry. I’m very used to people not knowing how to take me talking about my polyamorous relationships. It’s not a particularly common thing, so I get that it’s unfamiliar.”

A thousand questions sprung to Donghun’s mind. How does that work? Who met who first? How do you agree to take in another partner? Is everyone in the quad bisexual or pansexual? How did your friends and family react? Are you once polyamorous, always polyamorous – what did that mean for his relationship with Byeongkwan..?

He knew better than to ask, however – he should probably pick up a damn book, if he was that curious.

Sehyoon and Byeongkwan were both laughing, and Donghun realised they were quite probably laughing at him.

“You’re so bad at hiding your facial expressions,” Byeongkwan snickered. “Don’t worry, your reaction is pretty normal.”

“Sorry…” Donghun flushed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Sehyoon…”

“You really didn’t.” Sehyoon smiled and sipped his coffee. “Surprise and curiosity I can take. You didn’t immediately ask me how the sex works, so that’s better than most people.”

“Well, uh… That’s not really any of my business.”

“No, but you’d be surprised how many people think polyamory is just synonymous with ‘orgy’ and nothing but a group sex fantasy.” Sehyoon hid another smile behind his hand. “But that’s a conversation for another day.”

“Huh.” Donghun raised an eyebrow. “I was just thinking how great it would be to split rent four ways…”

“Oh, now that _was_ great, we-”

All three of them stopped shorted as the door banged open, the rain and wind of the outside sweeping into the coffee shop.

And with it came a noise that startled them all.

“Yuchan-?” Donghun got to his feet, his heart skipping.

Yuchan was crying. He made his way across the café and melted onto one of the stools, pooled his arms on the counter, buried his face in them, and broke down sobbing.

“Chan, hey… hey…” Byeongkwan put their hand on Yuchan’s shoulder, and when it garnered no response, pulled him up. “Come here…”

Yuchan crumbled against Byeongkwan, laying his forehead against their shoulder as he wept. Byeongkwan hushed him gently, stroking his hair and rubbing his back.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Yuchan’s voice was broken. He sat back, looking at Donghun with wet eyes. Tears dripped freely from his chin. “I… I didn’t…”

“It’s okay.” Donghun swiftly headed around the counter, taking the other stool next to Yuchan. He looked into his face with concern, and noticed how hard Yuchan was trembling. “Are you hurt? Has something happened?”

“Not… n-not like that. I… Sunghoon...”

“What is it, sweetie? What happened?” Byeongkwan held Yuchan’s hand gently. Donghun glanced at their face. Sunghoon? That was… Yuchan’s boyfriend?

Yuchan shook his head, another sob breaking from his chest.

“Did you argue?” Byeongkwan prompted gently. “Or… break up?”

“He’s married.”

Donghun, Sehyoon and Byeongkwan stared in shocked silence.

Yuchan drew in on himself, pulling his hands inside his sleeves and hunching over the counter, eyes screwed up, like he was trying to withdraw from the world itself.

“He’s..? You… didn’t know?” Sehyoon spoke ever so quietly.

Yuchan shook his head.

“You just found out?”

A nod.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart, I’m so sorry…” Byeongkwan put their arm around Yuchan, face crestfallen. “I… I’m just so sorry.”

Tear-drenched minutes passed, stretched out and painful. Donghun exchanged looks with the others. His own heart was thudding. Married? He thought back to the evening he had met the man, albeit briefly… Abrupt and cold, but warm and doting on Yuchan. Handsome, well-dressed, and so much older… Donghun felt a flare of guilt as he recalled his own uneasiness at seeing the couple. But he couldn’t have known… _Yuchan_ couldn’t have known…

Yuchan eventually sat straighter, taking a shuddering gasp of a breath. Sehyoon quietly passed him a tissue, and he wiped his wet chin and cheeks.

“Do you want to tell us wha-” Byeongkwan started, but Yuchan spoke before they could finish.

“His wife. He has a wife. We were in… in bed and she walked in.” The words whirled out from him, like water from a plug pulled loose. “And he jumped up and she started yelling and everyone was _yelling_ and I… I… I put my clothes on, and I wanted to run away, but she was in the doorway _shouting_ and asking who I was to sleep with her husband and…”

“Yuchan, breathe…”

Yuchan’s eyes snapped up to Sehyoon’s. He took a deep breath, and more tears trickled from his lashes.

“She kept asking and asking if I knew he had a wife and kids and was fucking him anyway and I said no because… because I didn’t! And she was shouting at me and shouting at him and I… I…” Yuchan’s voice trembled. “I left the house, I just wanted to get away… Sunghoon, he… he didn’t even look at me…” Yuchan looked up at Donghun, and the pain in his face made Donghun’s heart ache. “He was telling his wife that it meant nothing.” A sob made its way back into Yuchan’s voice. “So he… He must have been hiding their life. His house… That’s _their_ house. I’ve been… I-I’ve been sleeping in _their bed_ …”

Byeongkwan and Donghun both took one of his hands.

“Yuchan, listen to me. It wasn’t your fault.” Donghun shook his head slowly. “You didn’t know.”

“I know… But I feel _disgusting_. We’ve not been together that long, it’s not even about the relationship ending, it’s… it’s… I was someone’s _affair_.”

Yuchan’s tears shifted to something empty. He stared at the counter, his face pale, his hands still shaking. Donghun thought quickly, and stood up, heading back around the counter. He took a crystal glass and reached under the bar for a bottle. Yuchan looked up as he poured out a generous measure of whiskey.

“Coffee isn’t going to cut it today.” He pushed the glass towards him, and it was taken in shaky fingers. “Here.”

Yuchan knocked the amber liquid back, and then grimaced hard as he swallowed. “Blegh. It _burns_.”

“Not quite a hot chocolate with cream, but you could use something a little stronger.” Donghun reached for his hand. Yuchan might just be a customer… but his customers grew into _friends_. And he knew that shock too well: that crippling, all-consuming numbness that swallowed a person whole, turning their soul inside out and bleaching it with self-disgust. “It’s going to take some time to process this… But you can’t blame yourself, okay?”

Yuchan’s brown eyes met his, and they filled with tears again.

“I just thought… I thought I’d met someone special. It’s so hard for me to meet someone…” He sniffled. “I-I thought being demisexual would sort of protect me from rushing into something with someone I didn’t know.” He laughed, devoid of humour. “But it was all a con… And what about his wife? What i-if they break up because of me? Or his children-”

“Hey.” Byeongkwan’s voice was firm. “That’s not because of you. Yuchan… If it hadn’t been you, it could have been anyone else. It could have been me. Or Sehyoon. I’m not saying that makes this easier, but whatever problems that man has going on, with himself, or his wife, or his marriage… That’s _nothing_ to do with you. Okay?”

Yuchan looked down, eyes spilling over.

“Okay?”

He nodded.

“Want a hug?”

Another nod, and Byeongkwan pulled him close. They hushed him gently, rocking him as he broke out in fresh tears.

“I’ll drive you home, I’m parked just around the corner.”

“N-no, I don’t wanna put you out…”

“You’re not.” Byeongkwan looked down at him. “You can’t walk home like this. Plus it’s pissing it down with rain. I’ll drop you back.” They nudged Yuchan gently. “And you can tell me what you thought of the ending of _Red Dead_ on the drive. I’ve been meaning to message you to ask.”

Yuchan managed his first wobbly smile of the night. He waited as Byeongkwan pulled on their jacket and glanced at Donghun.

“I’ll see you soon…”

“You take care of yourself, Yuchan.”

The bell tinkled as they headed outside.

“Jesus.” Sehyoon looked at Donghun with wide eyes. “How horrible…”

“Yeah.” Donghun sighed. “Whatever that asshole had going on in his life… That’s no way to treat someone else.”

“Totally.” Sehyoon shrugged on his coat with a glance to the window. He sighed. “This weather makes me want to stay forever, but I’m guessing you don’t particularly want someone sleeping in one of your armchairs?”

Donghun chuckled. “If my insurance covered it, I would.” He smiled. “Get back safe.”

“Night, Donghun.”

With the café empty, Donghun turned up his lo-fi and began to clean everything down. The downpour drummed on the window, and he was already looking forward to climbing into fresh bedsheets and listening to the rain as his lullaby.

As he swept up, he thought about poor Yuchan. God, what possessed people to treat someone else that way? He knew, in the logical part of his brain, that sometimes good people did bad things, and that people acted in cruel ways from a place of unhappiness, blah blah blah… But _fuck_ , it was so selfish. Sweeping Yuchan into his mess with a bald-faced lie. His actions hadn’t just played with Yuchan’s emotions, they had actively made him feel guilty and grubby, and Donghun was downhearted to think that this would probably weigh on Yuchan’s conscience for a long time.

Donghun was nearly done cleaning up for the night when the door chimed open noisily with another gust of wind. He looked up in surprise – customers often stayed until closing, but they rarely came in this late on a torrential night.

“Good e- Junhee!”

Donghun stared, caught in shock as Junhee, out of breath and pink-faced, practically fell into Sycamore Street. But more than the breathlessness… He was _drenched_.

Donghun didn’t mean to, he really didn’t, but laughter burst out of him at the sorry sight of the man.

“What happened?” He crossed over to Junhee, staring at his dripping hair and soaked clothes.

“I was visiting my friends and time got away from me, and I missed the last subway…” Junhee looked at him with wide eyes. “D-do you have an umbrella I could borrow?”

Donghun stared at him. “I… I think it might be too late for that.”

They looked at each other for a beat, and then both doubled up laughing.

“I’m f-freezing,” Junhee chattered, a growing puddle forming around his feet. “It just kept getting heavier so I thought I could run here before it got too heavy but… Yup.”

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t laugh but… How far is it home?” Donghun asked, wiping his eyes.

“Another fifteen minutes… I’ll be fine.” Junhee flicked a strand of his wet bangs from his eyes with a playful huff; Donghun was struck by how different he was to his first impression of the brooding espresso-drinker.

“Let me get you an umbrella. And… do you need spare clothes?”

“Oh, no! I’m not here to steal your clothes… Thank you.” Junhee smiled. “An umbrella would be great, though…”

“Of course. Um, it’s at my place, if you don’t mind coming to..?”

“Well… It _is_ such a long way,” Junhee teased, and Donghun’s stomach turned over as he winked. _Fuck_. How was he this cute even when he was dripping a puddle on his café floor?

“Come on then.”

Donghun led them both out the café and locked the door quickly, hurrying to his apartment entrance. He ushered Junhee inside into the dry.

“Sorry, Donghun… This is really putting you out. It was just on the way and you were my only hope for a pit-stop.”

“It’s really not. The zero customers left in the café won’t mind.” He hesitated, suddenly feeling awkward in the stairwell. “Ah, uh… Come upstairs. I won’t be a sec.”

Well, he hadn’t thought this through. Was his place a mess? Were socks chucked on the sofa from last night? He chose not to even look, leaving Junhee lingering in the doorway to the front room while he rummaged in his bedroom for an umbrella.

“Here.” He returned and found Junhee leaned down with Hae rubbing circles around his wet legs, cooing over her silky fur. He held out the umbrella, jumper and beanie, and Junhee’s expression softened.

“You sure? Ah, thank you!”

Junhee unfolded the jumper. They both paused.

“Oh, uh… Hae, come have dinner.” Donghun turned before the scorching heat could turn his entire face red, and made a point of busying himself with Hae as Junhee stripped off his wet jumper and changed into Donghun’s.

“Your place is so nice.”

“Yeah, thanks, I-” Donghun looked up automatically, and his eyes fast-tracked to the exposed skin where Junhee was pulling the jumper down over his belly. His words stuck so fast he could have physically tripped over them. “I… Uh… Um…”

“That’s so much better.” Oblivious, Junhee tucked his own wet jumper into his bag, and pulled his hair back into the beanie. He smiled at Donghun, his eyes crinkling as a stray wet strand stuck stubbornly to his forehead and nose.

“You… Here.” Automatically, Donghun stepped closer and raised a hand, pushing the wet hair out of his face for him.

Junhee’s smile slipped slowly, his eyes locking onto Donghun’s.

Oh. They were very close.

Junhee’s smile returned, but it was different this time. This one came with a glance down at Donghun’s mouth. And a hand that came to skate along his jaw and rest on his cheek. And-

Junhee’s lips were a shock and a softness all at once.

Donghun knew he should do something. Kiss him back. Something like that. But he was frozen, entirely frozen to the spot.

Junhee pulled back after the longest couple of seconds Donghun had ever experienced.

“Is this okay?” His hand still cradled Donghun’s cheek.

“Yeah… Yeah this is very okay.”

This time, reality caught up with Donghun. His eyes shut, his lips accepted Junhee’s, his hands slipped onto his waist over his own soft jumper. Fuck, it felt good to hold his little waist. _Fuck_ , he kissed good, all slow and firm and… And his arms circled around Donghun, drawing them closer like magnets.

Donghun hadn’t kissed anyone in some time. Too long. He slipped into muscle memory, too stunned to do anything but mindlessly kiss Junhee back, and at the same time explore the sensations of a new mouth, all the curves and creases of a new pair of lips.

Junhee let him go, a smile taking up residence on his face as pinkness touched his cheeks. Donghun failed to hold onto the little giggle that rose up his throat, and felt his ears go red.

“Is this a good time to give you my number?” Junhee laughed boyishly, the strand of hair back in his eyes. Donghun nodded, heart thudding.

“Um. Yeah.”

They both hesitated, looking at each other. Junhee raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Oh! Uh. Phone.” Donghun pulled out his phone from his back pocket as he realised that that was what it took to get someone’s number. Junhee accepted it, keying in his details as Hae threatened to trip him up underfoot.

“Okay, well, I better get home.” Junhee handed back the phone with a smile and grabbed the umbrella from its place propped against the wall. “Thank you..?”

Donghun nodded slowly.

“Like, for the umbrella and clothes. Not for… kissing me. But thanks for that too.”

“No no, thank _you_. I mean… Uh.”

They both laughed, and Junhee’s expression softened. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of Donghun’s blonde hair behind his ear.

“Goodnight.”

“Night, Junhee…” Donghun stood helplessly as he turned to go. “Hey, uh…”

He tugged the sleeve of Junhee’s jumper and pulled him back around, pressing another quick kiss onto his lips. The way Junhee melted against it was almost too much to process.

“Night.”

“Night…”

This time, Junhee did turn and head down the stairs. Donghun watched him go, watched him smile back over his shoulder as he headed back into the rain.

Hae meowed, jealous for attention.

For a long minute, Donghun stared at the floor, two fingers pressed to his lips.

He’d kissed him. He’d kissed Double Espresso. God, was it healthy for his heart to be beating this fast? Was he going to collapse from sheer excitement?

Lock up. Lock up the café, you lovelorn idiot. He forced it into his head, heading back to the coffee shop in a daze. He turned out the lights on autopilot, flipped the sign and locked up in full, pulling the shutter down.

Only when he got upstairs and fell onto his bed did he let out a muffled scream into the pillow.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ A kiss! And it was so good! And the way his _hands_ had felt on him. He was so fucking cute, too. His smiles and his giggles and his gentleness… And he had kissed _him!_ So his crush – it wasn’t unrequited? Did Junhee find him attractive, somehow..?

But Donghun had been awkward, hadn’t he? Had Junhee thought him awkward? Was it off-putting, all his stuttering and uncertainty? What if he thought he was a loser..?

…It was genuine, right? It wasn’t just… just a spur of the moment thing? Donghun sat up. Actually, had bringing him to his apartment been suggestive? Had Junhee thought it was Donghun’s way to bring him home to get laid? What if that’s what Junhee had thought – and the kiss was just pushing for something more? Was he heading home wondering why Donghun hadn’t undressed him, or pulled him into bed?

Fuck, was that it-?

His phone pinged. He unlocked it to a message from a new number: _Got home without drowning! Thanks for the umbrella and the jumper, I’ll bring them round soon. J. x_

Donghun read it six times. It was just casual, right? Nothing about that message seemed flirty, or like there was something more to it. What did he expect, though? _I’m glad we finally kissed_ … Is that what he wanted?

What did he want?

What did _Junhee_ want?

Donghun didn’t even _know_ him.

It was extraordinary, the way Donghun’s excitement could morph into dread. His heart stopped beating giddiness and started pumping anxiety. He didn’t know Junhee. Who even was he? Just a cute customer he’d talked to a few times? He didn’t even know his family name. He just swung by late at night – he could be anyone. Look at what happened to Yuchan! Did you ever really know a person – and here he was, bringing a mere customer into his home and kissing him and expecting… expecting what?

Impending panic made him lock his phone and put it face down on the dresser. He got to his feet and headed to the shower, keen to soak away the old memories that came chasing on anxiety’s tail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty jam-packed little chapter..!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and apologies for the slight delay in getting this chapter out - I've been poorly this week as well as contended with a four-year-old who REALLY wanted to play dinosaurs all the time.
> 
> I'm so grateful for you for sticking with the story and I really hope you're enjoying it!
> 
> If like Donghun you are curious about polyamory and open relationships and you, too, would like to “pick up a damn book” – I personally recommend The Ethical Slut (Third Edition): A Practical Guide to Polyamory, Open Relationships, and Other Freedoms in Sex and Love by Hardy and Easton. It’s a great starting point for those who are curious either for themselves or to understand more about others’ relationships and ways to love! :3
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly
> 
> [Find me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/IndiDragonfly)


	7. Flat White

Some days, Donghun enjoyed making coffee because it was his craft. Balancing flavours, perfecting velvety textures – it was an art, and he prided himself on creating a cup of complex comfort. And some days, it was nothing more than autopilot: a set of motions he went through while he barely even registered what his hands were doing. To anyone else, the coffee produced on both kinds of days were the same, but the latter left Donghun’s head free to fill with thoughts beyond those four walls.

However, while no-one noticed the difference in the drinks he made, it didn’t make him immune from regulars sensing that something was on his mind.

“You okay tonight? You’re quieter than normal.”

Donghun was plucked from his whirring thoughts by Makoto, who was watching him make their drink. He smiled quickly, reaching for the powder to dust the cappuccino.

“Yeah, of course.” He turned his smile to Makoto’s boyfriend. “And yours was-?”

“You know what, I think I’ve changed my mind. Could I get an iced coffee please? With hazelnut?”

“You sure can.” Donghun switched the takeout cup for the ones he used for cold drinks. Across the counter, Makoto teased Mirae for being indecisive, and Mirae responded with a grin and a kiss to stop them talking. Donghun felt a pang of wistfulness. They had been through a lot together, but now they looked so at ease. So… happy.

Donghun mixed coffee with ice and hazelnut syrup, the blender rumbling as it created its frosty drink. He allowed the sound to swallow his sigh. He may have brushed off Makoto’s question but in truth he had felt wobbly for the past week, ever since he had shared that kiss with Junhee. Seeing Mirae and Makoto giggle and share another peck, he craved to be back there – with his hands cupping Junhee’s hips, Junhee’s fingers skimming his jaw… It had felt so good. So _nice_. The way his kiss had been so strong but unobtrusive, patient… Only the littlest hint of his tongue smoothing against Donghun’s lip… He wanted to be back in that moment. He wanted to do it again. But…

“Oh this looks so good,” Mirae commented as he accepted the iced americano. He took a sip and hummed in appreciation. “Thank you!”

“Night, Donghun! See you soon!”

Donghun bid them goodnight and watched them leave, his gaze absently lingering on the corner table where Sehyoon and Byeongkwan sat side-by-side and sharing headphones, laughing over something on Byeongkwan’s phone.

He wanted that too. He wanted to kiss Junhee again, sure – and more, if his night of fantasising had taught him anything – but even more than that, he wanted to sit and drink tea with him again. Talk about music and clothes and childhoods until they realised the time. Those nights deep in conversation, laughing, asking each other questions – now, after sharing a kiss, he realised that they had felt like the nearest thing to a date Donghun had experienced in _so_ long. He wanted more of them. And he wanted to go out somewhere, somewhere that wasn’t the café, and hold Junhee’s hand and get to know him…

But that’s where he got stuck. _Get to know him_. He didn’t know him yet. And it would take time before he properly knew him. And even then… could you ever _really_ know a person?

He leaned on the counter, taking a sip of his chamomile tea and scrolling unseeing through social media. He thought back to last week, and how he had chosen to shower and go straight to sleep without replying to Junhee’s text telling him he had gotten home safe. Instead, he had waited until the light of the next day to reply with just a smiley emoji, which even as he sent it felt unjust, but it was because he really didn’t want to hear his phone ping with another message in reply.

It came anyway – of course it did. Junhee had asked that evening how his day was going, and Donghun had opened it before thinking. The little white _read_ letters had popped up before he could close the chat, and he had cursed himself before ignoring it for another three days. After that time had passed, it was followed by another message. The tone was light and casual – Donghun had ached, knowing that his silence was confusing and hurtful to Junhee. This time, Junhee had made a joke about something they had talked about in one of their nights in the café, and tentatively asked if Donghun would like to meet up some time in the day.

 _Yes, I want to spend time with you_ so _much._

That’s what his heart wanted to say. Arrange a date. Pick out clothes. Get unreasonably nervous to meet him and feel those excitably butterflies in his tummy, the ones he swore used to be familiar but now he could hardly remember.

But his head had interfered, with all its old anxiety and dread.

With a churn of guilt, he had simply read the message in his previews, and left the chat unopened.

Now, he just wished it would all go away.

Donghun finished his tea, clearing the cup and pocketing his phone as the door opened. He felt a touch of relief; customers were a welcome distraction from his inner conflict.

“Hey! Yuchan, how are you doing?”

Yuchan smiled, and it was a sight for sore eyes. He had been absent from Sycamore Street since he had stumbled inside crying last week, and it was a relief to see him looking okay. The young teacher raised a hand to wave at Byeongkwan and Sehyoon, and came to lean on the counter.

“Hey Donghun.” He shook his bangs out of his eyes. “I’m doing much better than the last time you saw me.”

“Yeah? I’m really glad to hear that.”

“Yeah… And thank you. For being there.” Yuchan glanced up, shuffling a little. “I know I was in some sort of state… And I’m grateful for you listening to me. And feeding me whiskey.”

Donghun laughed a little. “Advice and a drink is kind of my thing. And sometimes coffee just doesn’t quite cut it.”

Yuchan grinned. “Yeah.” He slipped onto one of the stools, eyes travelling over the blackboard.

“Your usual mocha? Or hot chocolate?”

Yuchan paused. “Can I get something… I dunno, more grown up?” He chewed his lip, reading the list of coffees. “Feels like I should stop having drinks for kids.”

Donghun wasn’t sure why, but his heart panged hard at that comment. Yuchan did look much better than before, but there were still tell-tale dark shadows under his eyes. Donghun wanted to hug him and tell him he didn’t have to ‘grow up’ – whatever that meant.

“A flat white?” Yuchan sounded unconvinced at himself, and Donghun nodded.

“Of course.”

He made up Yuchan’s drink, and took advantage of him looking at his phone to slip in his favourite vanilla syrup and dust it liberally with milky chocolate shavings.

“Mm.” Yuchan sipped cautiously, but his eyes lit up. “Oh! This isn’t so bad!”

“You’re on a slippery slope to neat espresso,” Donghun grinned, ignoring the pinch of hurt as his own comment brought to mind Junhee.

“Ew. Never.” Yuchan took another sip. “I, er, I met with Sunghoon this morning.”

“You did?” Donghun looked up in surprise and Yuchan nodded.

“Yeah. For a few days I was just so upset and kinda angry… But then I realised I deserved some kind of explanation, and I knew I could get through having to see him if it meant it could help put this behind me.”

Donghun’s eyebrows rose in surprise. That was… such a vastly mature approach to this.

“That’s a really level-headed way to see things. And did it go okay?”

“Mh. Well, I mean, he’s a fucking cock, but it went okay for me.” Donghun couldn’t help snorting in surprise as Yuchan grinned. “But yeah. He was just really… slimy? I told him I wanted to meet in the day in a café, and I wouldn’t see him ever again but he owed me one conversation. But he was simpering around me like he thought he could win me back. No real apology, no remorse, just trying to twist things like what we had still stood.”

“Gross.”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, I asked him to explain. He’s been with his wife twenty years, and she’s a CEO of some furniture company. Super smart, super successful. And always out of town on business.” Yuchan raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “Hence where I came in.”

“Shit.” Donghun let out a low whistle. “So he could invite you over and see you when she was out of town?”

“Exactly. His kids are like, nearly my age, so they’ve moved out. So he could just cover up any traces of her and act like he lived alone.” Yuchan circled the rim of his cup with his finger. “He said he always thought he might be into guys, but he never had a chance to explore before he got married. And that he did love me…”

“But..?”

“But his mental health has been bad, which is why he’s made bad choices. Said he hasn’t been himself which is why he hurt me and his wife and made him a bad person…”

Donghun let out a long, slow sigh. “That’s not alright…”

“What do you mean?” Yuchan looked at him. “I mean, it made me feel a bit bad…”

“Exactly. I don’t know how to say this without sounding cruel, so I’ll just say it, but… Mental health has been talked about a lot in the last few years, and that’s _so_ important. We need to have those conversations. But… sometimes people play it as a card now, because they think they can, and that’s not okay.” Donghun sighed, pinching his nose. He knew this wasn’t coming out right. “I’m not belittling people’s issues. And I’m not saying this guy didn’t have mental health struggles. But he lied to you and manipulated you, hurt you… and then instead of apologising he just immediately blamed generic ‘mental health’ in place of an apology, and that just doesn’t sit right. Because as soon as he said ‘it’s my mental health’, it makes someone like you feel bad for him, and it can sort of… stop you from feeling like it’s okay to be mad at him.”

“That’s… actually very accurate.” Yuchan’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, I guess I did feel that way. I felt like I couldn’t tell him how much he’d hurt me or be pissed at him because then I’d be somehow making his mental health worse, or something?”

“Yeah.” Donghun nodded. “I mean, I’m really sorry if he does have mental health problems. And it often does offer a sort of explanation of why someone behaves a certain way. But it’s not a get-out-of-jail-free card, and it’s not an excuse for hurting someone else, especially if he’s doing nothing to address his problems. And it’s not okay to use it as a way to shirk all responsibility and not offer someone the apology they deserve.”

“You ever thought about being a therapist?” Yuchan smiled behind his coffee, and Donghun snorted. “You’re spot-on. To be honest, his whole behaviour just made me more annoyed. And I realised I mainly felt sorry for his family, and him, in a way. So I’m just dusting myself off and moving forward. I could keep paining over why he did it, and what he thought the outcome would be… But I’m never going to be able to see inside someone’s head, and that’s okay. Best just to focus on putting it in the past.”

Donghun smiled, his heart warm. He realised that Yuchan’s emotional maturity was far beyond what he had expected – and he wished he could say to him that he didn’t need to give up sugary drinks to be the well-balanced adult he wanted to be. He was already there.

“Anyway, that’s enough of my waffling.” Yuchan stood up and picked up his drink. “Thanks for the coffee!” He smiled, heading over to sit with Byeongkwan and Sehyoon at their table.

Donghun settled down behind the counter and made a list of ingredients, checking cupboards and jars and jotting empties on his notepad. Customers drifted in and out, Sehyoon, Byeongkwan and Yuchan all headed off, and he wrapped up placing his order on his tablet with a sigh.

His stomach dropped fast the second he caught glimpse of Junhee.

He saw him as he walked down the street, hair blowing on the night breeze, hands in the pockets of his long coat. Without thinking, Donghun jumped up to busy himself as the door chimed.

“Um… Hey?”

Donghun turned to face him, trying for all the world to look surprised to see him, and knowing his shaking hands and awkwardness were likely giving him away.

“Oh. Hey…”

Junhee watched him closely, and Donghun found it hard to meet his eyes.

“Um, I wanted to stop by… If now isn’t a bad time…”

For once, Donghun resented the peacefulness of the café – the two tables of customers were at the far wall, one couple deep in conversation and one girl locked into her headphones. He had no escape.

“No, it’s fine…”

“Right…” Junhee still searched his face, and the awkward crackle in the air between them made Donghun want to curl up under the counter. “So I just, I… I don’t wanna seem like I’m cornering you at work. I really did feel conflicted because I don’t want to badger you here, but… But you didn’t reply to my messages, and I didn’t want to blow up your phone…”

“Yeah, no, I’m sorry…” Donghun’s voice was weak, and his cheeks went warm. He looked down at the wooden bar. What the fuck was he supposed to say? He’d been a real _dick_ , so did he just apologise? What about an explanation? He didn’t want to, he _couldn’t…_

After a pause, Junhee hesitantly perched on a stool, and continued.

“I just thought there was… something between us. A spark.” Donghun glanced up at him, and found his dark eyes confused and sad. It made a wash of sickness and self-loathing unfurl in his stomach. “I felt like we were kind of getting to know each other, and then we kissed, and… And you ghosted me.”

“I’m really sorry.” Donghun swallowed hard and forced himself to meet Junhee’s eyes. “I really am, I totally know how I’ve acted shittily and… and… I’m just really sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just don’t…” Junhee trailed off. “Did you realise you didn’t want something..? Or did I… Did I interpret things wrong? I’m so sorry if you felt pressured…”

For a split second, Donghun thought about taking that as his exit. Saying he just realised it was a mistake. Put the onus on Junhee for reading into something where there was nothing.

Lie.

But one look at Junhee’s anxious face, his bitten lip, and Donghun knew he couldn’t do it.

“No, it’s not that… I’ve had a crush on you for ages.”

Junhee’s confusion was painted on his features. “But then I… I don’t understand…”

Donghun searched inside for the words. He _had_ to. Because somewhere beneath all the layers of doubt and fear and rotted anxiety was a bright flame of hope. That Junhee might be different, that this might be the time he let go of the past and let himself be happy with someone new. It was shrouded, like a green shoot climbing through a thick black knot of roots. But it was there, and he wanted him.

“Hey listen, I’ll leave you alone.” Junhee stood up. “I didn’t mean to come and corner you. You can always drop me a message if you wanted to. Or not…”

He turned to leave.

Donghun’s mouth was dry.

“I was catfished.”

The words blurted from his throat like vomit before he could try to repress them. Junhee turned, looking at him in surprise.

“I… I’m so sorry I didn’t text you back. I wasn’t playing games, or ch-changing my mind.” Donghun swallowed hard. “It’s just I… I… Before, I got catfished, and ever since… meeting someone new is hard, and…”

He trailed off, choking on his own words. Why, _why_ could he never vocalise this? This thing, this huge, oppressive _thing_ that was so very solid and so very _real_ in his life – why did it become a thousand translucent threads that he struggled to snatch the second he tried to say it out loud?

“Donghun… I’m so sorry that happened.” Donghun’s eyes snapped back to Junhee as he spoke. His expression was full of sympathy, but there was still confusion there. “But I’m a real person… I’m not someone online..?”

Donghun wanted to shrink back and disappear into the ground.

He could see it in his eyes, even in sweet, respectful Junhee’s eyes: you were _just_ catfished? That puzzlement he _always_ saw, that mild sympathy with no understanding of how much it devastated his entire life for a time. No realisation of the impact it had had, the ingrained effects left on his heart like dirty fingerprints.

 _Catfishing?_ their expressions always told him. _So what, someone used a fake picture on an app and you had a bad date?_

Donghun looked down, pulling his hands into his jumper.

“I know. It’s not as simple as that… It made me lose trust in _everyone_ in _every_ way. It’s not a conscious thing, I _want_ to trust people. I _want_ to let myself get close to people. But I just _can’t,_ it’s subconscious, almost like a phobia…” He looked up, heart thudding and his throat suddenly tight. Junhee didn’t look angry, or annoyed – he was just listening. Letting Donghun speak. “But I-I’m not using it as an excuse. I-I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay…” Junhee’s tone had shifted from confusion to sympathy. His words were gentle. “Donghun, I’m so sorry, I had no idea… I’m so sorry for coming here and putting pressure on you.”

“No, it’s… You didn’t know.” Donghun hated how his voice was shaking. He didn’t want Junhee to take an ounce of blame away from this – his earlier conversation with Yuchan still rang in his ears. This was all Donghun’s fault, this was all his problem… “I’m to blame, not you… I shouldn’t have kissed you and not replied to you, it was unfair and… I’m sorry.”

“Really, Donghun, it’s okay.” Junhee smiled gently – reassuringly - and Donghun’s heart ached. “I was confused, but I understand now that there’s a reason for it. And I didn’t for one second want to come here and upset you while you’re working.” He took a step backwards. “I’ll get going. I’m sorry for distressing you and… I’m really sorry for whatever happened to you before.”

In the pause that followed, Donghun forced himself to nod. He was confused. He had expected confusion, scoffing, questioning, disbelief… But Junhee was just listening, and apologising, and being gentle and kind?

Conflict waged in his heart – Junhee’s willingness to let it drop and leave him alone was at odds with the frightened feeling in his belly… Suddenly, all Junhee’s soft gentleness made Donghun wish that he would stay.

Junhee nodded, and with a small smile headed out of Sycamore Street.

Donghun took a deep, shaky breath, and turned his back on the coffee shop.

He closed up early. His clean-down was shoddy, and he left jobs to do for the morning. He took the steps up to home two at a time, letting the front door bang shut and trailing to his room.

He lay down and buried his head in his arms, begging darkness to block out the world.

His laptop was still open from where he had been browsing that afternoon. As Hae mewed and the sound tugged him from his blackness, he unlocked it and found his music programme still open. His throat constricted, but it didn’t stop him clicking play on one of Junhee’s songs he had gifted him.

He lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, and tears finally leaked down his face.

It wasn’t _fair_. He didn’t want to be like this anymore – he wanted to be trusting and open and easy-going. Growing up, he had always believed that people were good, and he assumed the best of them, and it felt like that core part of his worldview had been severed from his soul and locked in a cage – still there, but distant and unreachable.

He didn’t want to be like this anymore.

He was sick of being afraid.

He was sick of being weak.

He was sick of being… a _victim_.

But he was all those things. Those feelings of shame and humiliation and disgust had ripened into hard callouses on his heart. They didn’t wound him every day. They didn’t sit in his thoughts constantly as they had done in the early days. But whenever he thought about letting someone in close, they formed a barrier, something that all his rationale and desire couldn’t fight through.

Fuck, he felt so emasculated.

He realised the tears that had broken free had become noisy sobs, and he ran his sleeve across his eyes to dry them. He wasn’t even upset, he was just so… so… _frustrated._ He wanted to be close to Junhee, he wanted to get to know him and see where things went, and yet he’d blown it.

He pulled out his phone and blinked to clear the tears. With a sniff, he opened the chat with Junhee, and typed out a message.

_I’m so sorry for messing things up. Thank you for being kind tonight._

He closed his phone and rubbed his face dry again, and a message came through in a matter of minutes.

_And I’m sorry for pinning you down at work and upsetting you. I hope you’re okay, Donghun. Look after yourself, okay?_

A hard lump clung to Donghun’s throat. It was so kind, so respectful. And somehow, so final.

He felt a deep, real sadness at the thought that Junhee probably wouldn’t be coming back for any more double espressos.

He closed his phone and turned onto his belly, burying his face in the pillow and letting his tears consume him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah the sweet, sweet angst...
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read thus far, especially those of you who leave such kind comments. I know many people only read fics when they're finished (very understandably!) but those of you who read in real time and leave comments and kudos really are the ones that help motivate writers to write, and make the writing process a thousand times happier. So thank you, sincerely. :3
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly


	8. Hot Chocolate

Donghun slowed to a stop outside his front door, breathing hard. Pushing his headphones down around his neck, he pulled his key from his sweatpants and let himself inside. He took the steps two at a time despite his protesting hamstrings, and immediately flopped down on the sofa.

The post-run buzz was something he couldn’t live without anymore. He forced himself to sit up – his muscles would only seize up if he gave them half the chance – and pulled his hair out of its bun, where it stood on end, sweaty and frazzled. It was still only late morning, and the sun was streaming in through the open window. He took a deep breath. A whole sunshiney day ahead.

He pulled off his workout clothes and stepped under the shower, singing to himself as he washed the exertion off his skin. Hae snuffled around the bathroom as he wrapped a towel around his waist, and she followed him with a mew into his room.

He needed to do some work in the café today before opening tonight, but he’d have time to change into his usual plainer work clothes before then. He took a patterned shirt and pair of graffitied jeans from the rail, and opened his sock drawer for underwear.

As he rummaged for a pair of socks that actually matched, he unearthed the scattering of things still stuffed at the back of the drawer. He sighed, fingers lingering over what had remained untouched for a matter of years. A leather collar, condoms, lube – even a couple of Poppers and an open packet of PrEP. He sighed again. Not for the first time, he wondered why he was still hanging on to it all, still keeping it within easy-reaching distance, when he hadn’t had any sex whatsoever in so long. Perhaps it was because it served as a reminder that he had loved dating and loved hooking up, once upon a time. Perhaps it was because chucking it all out seemed like admitting defeat. He grabbed his socks and shut the drawer and its reminders of what used to be.

He dried himself off, dressed and let his hair dry wavy down to his jaw, tucking it behind his ears as he headed down to the coffee shop. The sun was still pouring down on Sycamore Street, and he rolled up his sleeves and opened the windows to start working.

He perched on the counter, repotting the two plants that had grown too big for their homes. He teased the knotted roots out, cut away the damage, and snuggled them into fresh loamy soil in the pretty blue pots he had bought from the market. He gave them a spritz of water from an ornate bottle, and set them back in their shelf.

With the dirt washed from beneath his nails, he set about his deep cleaning. In reality, he wasn’t due for a deep scrub-down of the café for another week or so yet, but his mindset had been cloudy over the last few days and the idea of throwing himself into a physical task was appealing. He couldn’t think about old demons nor fucked-up chances with sweet boys when he was sweating buckets from scrubbing windows.

An hour later, he had flung open the remaining windows, unbuttoned the next couple of buttons on his shirt, and clustered his hair up into a scruffy bun on top of his head. He sat back from varnishing table legs, wiping back a stray strand of blonde that was floating into his eyes.

A knock on the door got his attention.

His heart skipped immediately. Junhee hovered outside, his lip bitten. His normal night-time attire of jumpers and jackets was gone, replaced with an oversized white t-shirt and acid-washed jeans.

Donghun slowly put down his varnishing brush and got to his feet, making his way to the door nervously and turning the keys.

“Hey…” Junhee took a step back, eyes sliding to the cleaning tools littered around the café. “I’m really sorry to interrupt if you’re busy… I just wondered if you had five minutes? …To talk?”

Donghun hesitated in the doorway.

“Only if you want to.” Junhee stepped back again, holding up his hands. “There’s no pressure.”

“N-no, sure, come in…” Donghun stepped back to let him in. Was he here to confront him for being a dick? Had he decided that Donghun was an asshole after all for blowing hot and cold – was he going to shout at him?

“Wow, looks spotless in here.”

“Oh… yeah. It’s cleaning day.” Donghun glanced down at himself. “Sorry for looking like trash…”

“You don’t.” Junhee met his eyes and smiled. “You really don’t.”

Donghun’s face went warm, and a slither of his apprehension left his body.

“Um… Thanks.” Another pause. “Why are you here?”

He blurted it out before he could stop it – and he instantly cursed himself. _Way to sound hostile._ But if Junhee seemed to notice, he didn’t comment on it.

“I wanted to show you some things.” He nodded once, slowly, and then slid his rucksack off his shoulders. Putting it down on a nearby table, he drew out a set of papers, and looked at them nervously. “The other day, I should have come and talked to you when you weren’t working, instead of barging in and catching you unawares. And I’m really sorry for that.”

Donghun’s heart ached. He was sensitive, and _so_ respectful.

“I thought about what you told me, the past couple of days.” Junhee chewed his lip again. “Anyway…”

He stepped closer to Donghun, and put one of the pieces of paper down on the table. Then another.

“My birth certificate. My college graduation certificate,” he said, and Donghun stared at him. “My passport… My driver’s license… My business card… And my school yearbook.” Junhee looked up over the items spread on the table, meeting Donghun’s eyes resolutely.

“Junhee… What? Why..?”

For a moment, Junhee searched his face, playing with a bracelet on his wrist.

“Because I… I like you, Donghun.” He shrugged helplessly, his expression open and honest. “Like I… I really like you, more than I’ve liked someone in a long time. And I’ve been enjoying getting to know you so much, and when we kissed… Well, I’d been coming here for more than the coffee for a _long_ while.” He laughed shyly. “What you told me… Well, I thought a lot about it. And this..?” He indicated the table with one hand. “I want to give you every possible chance to trust me. At least enough to keep getting to know each other.”

Donghun stared at him, speechless.

“So you… You brought me all your documentation?”

“Yeah… Was it stupid?” Junhee laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know… I know this doesn’t fix anything. But I read about catfishing online the other day. I got reading some articles on some different websites. Even this one charity that deals with romance fraud and stuff. I read a bunch of people’s stories and I… I think I understand a bit more than I did.”

He’d done that? For him..?

“Anyway I know this is dumb but…” Junhee looked back at the table. “I couldn’t think of any other way to help you feel safe with me, and… So… If you want me to go away, I promise I’ll get out of here, just say… But if you still wanted to get to know each other, we could try? And we could take it slow – whatever you need?”

Donghun swallowed hard. Suddenly his heart was pounding with a dozen different emotions. His fingers traced down the yearbook, and he picked it up.

“A yearbook, huh?” His voice sounded tight. “Bet you were the cool, popular kid.”

“Delinquent soccer kid, actually.” Junhee laughed as Donghun found his page, his heart melting at the spotty-faced, messy-haired teenage Junhee.

“You… You actually like me enough to do all that? Look into what I told you about..?” He put down the yearbook and met Junhee’s eyes.

“Yeah. I really do. Those nights that we sat and talked, I had so much fun with you. Like I’d always thought you were… well, really hot, but then we got talking. And you’re smart, and interesting, and passionate and… And I have a real thing for you, Donghun. If you don’t want to, I understand, but I had to try.”

Donghun looked at him. At this sweet, thoughtful man who had come down here just to reassure him, just to see if there was a _chance_ they could try something between them, even if they had to take things slow… And he wasn’t expecting anything. He wasn’t just trying to rush him into sleeping together. And now he just bit his lip, looking hopeful.

Donghun’s throat clamped, and tears made the room swim.

“Hey…” Junhee’s face fell instantly as the first tear dropped from Donghun’s lashes.

Donghun sat down heavily on the nearest chair, putting a hand to his face as he started to cry. The more he tried to hold the tears back, the more relentlessly they built as a lump in his throat.

“Donghun, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I can go…”

“No.” Donghun looked up at him. “It isn’t that. I just can’t believe you actually came back for me and did all this to try and help me? And… you don’t think less of me?”

“Hey, of course I don’t.” Junhee slipped into the chair opposite, his eyes fretful. “Why on earth would I think less of you?” He shook his head slowly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Donghun looked down, a tear dripping from his nose and splashing onto the tabletop. “It is, though. What happened with me… It is.”

There was a pause where Junhee watched him, his eyes sad. “Do you… want to tell me what happened?”

His voice was gentle, and careful, and made Donghun look up and meet his eyes. Slowly, he nodded.

“Can I try and stop crying first?” He laughed through his tears, and Junhee smiled, though his eyes were still worried.

“Of course.” He paused, and then jumped to his feet. “Hey, how about I make _you_ a drink for a change? I was a barista in college, I’ll have you know!”

“Uh, yeah…” Donghun said, amusement on his face even as he wiped away his tears. “Be my guest.”

Junhee went behind the counter and started pottering about, giving Donghun enough time to take a few deep breaths and rub away the last of his tears. He watched Junhee lean over a mug, tongue between his lips in concentration. Despite himself, Donghun couldn’t help but smile.

“Here,” Junhee said proudly, balancing the drink carefully as he headed back to their table. He presented it with a flourish, and Donghun snorted softly.

“Is that supposed to be a smiley face?” he asked dubiously, even though the wonky little face atop the hot chocolate was making his heart thud with a weird affection.

“Yeah. Guess my coffee art could use some work.” Junhee watched closely as Donghun sipped it. “Is it okay?”

“Mm.” Donghun raised an eyebrow. “It’s actually very good.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Junhee grinned, and then it slid away again. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Donghun took another sip.

This wasn’t a tale he retold. A few of his friends knew, those who had been there at the time. His brother. But nobody else. Why would he tell them, when all it did was crack the dam that held back all his shame and anxiety? But now… He _wanted_ to tell Junhee his story.

He took a deep breath.

“About three years ago, I met Lei. I had a pretty normal account on Instagram – I used to just post the same stuff everyone does. Coffees. Photos with friends. The usual. Then I started getting a bit more into posting fashion. I’ve always loved clothes, and I started posting ‘outfits of the day’, and new designer bits I picked up. It got a little bit of attention – it’s dumb, you know? But that little buzz of serotonin when you get likes on social media… Anyway, it was a bit of harmless fun, and it let me indulge in something I enjoy.

“I can’t remember exactly when Lei followed me. It was the same time a bunch of new people started following me – my profile was public, and I kind of liked having more followers. I didn’t necessarily follow everyone back, I’d just have a quick look on their profile and if they looked cool, I’d follow. Anyway, I posted an outfit one day and he DMed me – sent me back my own post and just said “this look is fire”.”

Donghun looked down at his hands.

“I wrote back, and he said nice things – that I had a great eye for clothes and he loved seeing my photos. I remember checking out his profile, and he was gorgeous. Said he was twenty-five, based in Shanghai, and he also posted a lot of clothes and fashion. So we got chatting.”

That was where Donghun paused. That was the easy part of the story. His eyes unfocussed as he was swallowed in old memories; demons rearing their heads in delight at being let out in the open.

“It started as just casual chatting, but really quickly we were talking all day, every day. He was really flirty, and single, and he always commented on my posts. And I… I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the attention, and started to get butterflies when he messaged me.

“Before long, we swapped KakaoTalk IDs and started talking on there. And…” Donghun swallowed. When he started to speak again, his voice grew quieter. “He was a social worker, working with all these troubled kids. He dreamed of travelling and seeing all the wonders of the world… And he told me about his brothers, and his friends… And he listened to me. He asked me about my life, my childhood, my dreams… He made me feel special. And I started to get feelings for him.”

Shame burned his face hot. He didn’t dare look up at Junhee, afraid of the reaction he had been met with so many times before. _How could you catch feelings for someone you’d never met? He was just a nameless person behind a chat ID?_ He couldn’t answer those things, because none of this was rational, none of this was normal…

He took a sip of his hot chocolate for strength.

“Things started to… get more serious. Well… I… I mean…” He hesitated once more. “We sent each other pictures. Like normal ones, just ones from day-to-day life. But he asked for more.” He swallowed hard. “And I was more than happy to say yes. Part of me felt like he was so far out of my league, and so far away, I had to try to keep his interest. So I started sending slutty photos – because it never bothered me, I’d always sent them to guys I was seeing before. And that’s the thing, we were… We were seeing each other. We might not have met but we were seeing each other.”

_Didn’t you try and phone him? Didn’t you ask for photos back?_

Always the same questions. All the questions that Lei had always been able to answer. He had phone anxiety. He didn’t like sending nudes after an ex shared them with friends. Perfectly feasible excuses to an unsuspicious boy.

“So he was my boyfriend, I guess. And I really had it bad for him. We sexted a _lot,_ like almost every day we’d get off together while messaging… And I sent him videos of myself… _”_

Flashes of memories. The way he had felt so wanted. So desired. _My good boy_. So what if the smut was only sent one way? He got praised for it: a good little sub. It was part of the thrill, it played into his own kinks and cravings…

“And we would talk about meeting up soon and I couldn’t wait for it and, and, and-”

“Hey.” Donghun snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Junhee’s voice. He watched him quietly from across the table. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

Donghun nodded in a daze. “Well… You know where this is going. I told you I was catfished, so…”

“So Lei… wasn’t who he told you he was?”

Donghun swallowed hard, tears rising to his eyes as he tried to force the words out.

“She. He was a _she_.” He shook his head, forcing the tears to remain at bay. “She wasn’t even Chinese. She was a fifty-something American woman.”

Donghun had a sense that Junhee tried to cover his shock, but it flashed across his eyes before he could smother it. Donghun looked away.

He remembered it. Being blindsided, completely and utterly knocked flat. It had been a Sunday afternoon, and he’d been in the living room watching a movie. His phone had pinged with a notification from Instagram – he’d frowned as he found a message from an account he didn’t follow.

_My name’s Lei. The person you’ve been talking to isn’t me. She’s a fake using my photos._

Disbelief. Confusion. Alarm.

And then sheer, unrelenting horror.

Jennifer Moore. It was name that would come to be associated with his nightmares. A middle-aged, married woman from Michigan. Her Chinese friend’s son, Lei – the real Lei – had moved back to Shanghai last year, and every single photo and video had been stolen from his social media accounts. Carefully curated into the new account, the one that had followed Donghun, and then all his photos, Snapchat videos, Facebook tags had become ammo for crafting the bullet that broke Donghun’s heart.

“Everything felt like it was shattering. I felt so humiliated.” Donghun looked up at Junhee, and the sympathy brimming in his eyes was almost too much to look at. He wanted to skip through this next bit, and fast. “I just sent a message… _I know you’re a catfish_. And she… She got angry with me.”

“Donghun…” Junhee swallowed. “I’m _so_ sorry…”

“I don’t know how the real Lei found out. I don’t know what happened. But she sent me a lot of abuse. Started sending me message, after message…” For a moment, he was lost, back there again. “And she posted my video online.”

There was a beat of silence.

Donghun looked up apprehensively.

“Wait… What?” Junhee searched his face. “What video..? She didn’t..?”

“Yeah. A video… I sent while we were getting off.”

More memories. Noisy breath sticking in his throat. Panic compressing his chest. Dropping his phone as anxiety stopped him from breathing. Control slipping from his grasp like a safety rope slipping through his fingers.

His intimate video, posted online for anyone to see.

“So that’s my story.” Donghun took a drink from his cup; his hands were shaking. “I was catfished, and they committed revenge porn on me when I called them out. And I can _never_ take that back. That video… is still out there. Who knows where.” He failed to keep a stray tear from escaping. “Still think it’s not something to be ashamed of, huh?”

He looked down at the table. A second tear. A third. He clutched the hot drink tighter.

“That’s why I don’t trust anyone. I’m _over_ it, believe me – even if I am crying.” He wiped his face in frustration. “I am over it, it’s in the past. But it fucked up my trust.

“And I know what everyone thinks. I was careless and stupid and naïve. How could I possibly fall for someone I’d never even spoken to? Didn’t I think it was suspicious? Was I really so stupid to send photos and videos to someone I’d never met? It was my own stupid fault. Why didn’t I-”

“I don’t think any of those things.” Junhee’s voice was gentle, and Donghun looked up at him, desperately searching his face for truth. He shook his head slowly, his bangs falling into his eyes. “Our feelings are complex, and affection and attraction are powerful things, and when we trust someone with them… Not to mention how easy it is to feel like you know someone online.” Junhee shook his head again. “This wasn’t your fault, Donghun. I’m just so sorry someone did this to you.”

Donghun’s bottom lip wobbled.

“You really think that?”

“Yeah.” Junhee sighed. “And I understand what you mean now about finding it hard to trust – of course you do. Someone betrayed _your_ trust. As much as it’s possible to be betrayed. That must have been so hard for you.”

“Yeah.” Donghun sniffed, again wiping his face clear of tears. A sense of relief doused him; he’d got his story out. He’d told Junhee the truth. “I’ve worked on it a lot, you know? The café helps me.” He looked around 34 Sycamore Street, with its mismatched furniture and cacti in the window. “I don’t know what I’d have done without this place healing me. It gave me a purpose, something to control when I felt like I had none. But it’s also been a place I’ve been able to talk to people. Good people. When it all happened, I wanted to shut out the world and everyone in it. But I had to come here, I had to serve coffee and talk to customers. Hearing other people’s stories – and sharing little bits of my own… It’s helped a lot.”

Junhee had a strange expression on his face. If Donghun wasn’t mistaken, it looked a lot like affection.

“But you know it’s… It’s the romantic side that I still struggle with.” Donghun looked away, his face hot. Now he’d started talking, he couldn’t stop. He wanted to tell Junhee everything. Because if there was even a _chance_ of… something, he wanted him to know what he was getting himself into. “I have good friends and I talk to the customers but I haven’t… The emotional trust is one thing, but I have trouble with physical trust.” He glanced up at Junhee – still unphased, still calm. “Intimacy sometimes makes me have thoughts of her… and the revenge porn… and makes me anxious.” He swallowed. “Even kissing you, it… Yeah.” He smiled self-deprecatingly. “My body is gagging for sex, but even touching myself is… is… difficult, sometimes.” He laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“I’m glad you are.” Junhee leaned on the table, looking at him gently. “What happened is appalling. I just… can’t believe someone could do that to another person. But especially you.” He gave a lopsided smile. “You’re incredibly strong for coming through it.”

“I don’t know about that…” Donghun muttered, but inside he was filled with gratitude. This wasn’t how he’d expected this to go. Whenever he met someone he had any interest in, he built barriers. Pushed them away. Because in his head, he’d always imagined how this conversation would go: awkward, shameful, filled with judgement. He’d not expected to meet someone who listened, and sympathised, and reassured him that it wasn’t his fault.

“Anyway,” Donghun continued, swirling the last of the foam into the sweet drink. “I’m sorry that all this made me mess you around.”

“It’s okay, Donghun – you didn’t mess me around.” Junhee smiled. “I understand why you responded the way you did. Fuck, who wouldn’t?”

“Thanks.” Donghun looked up at him shyly. Now that all his trauma had come splurging out, and giddy relief was taking his place, he remembered to notice just how gorgeous Junhee was. His heart skipped looking into his pretty eyes as they crinkled with a gentle smile. “It’s not like I don’t like you… I do.” His cheeks went warm. “I was, uh, ogling you since the day you walked in.”

“You were?” Junhee’s smile widened. “Well, same. Honestly, this place isn’t even remotely on my way home. But I like it, and it helps that the owner is very handsome.”

Donghun met his eyes, feeling a sharp flutter of butterflies in his belly.

“So, um… After you’ve heard my life story, do you still…?”

“Do I still want to get to know you? Yeah.” Junhee looked at him coyly. “If it’s something you want. And feel comfortable with.”

Donghun paused, and then nodded.

“Okay.” A handsome grin broke across Junhee’s face, and he glanced at the clock. “If you’re going to be okay, I have to head back to work, this was sort of my lunch break, but… How about I take you for dinner before you open up tonight? Just super casual,” he added quickly. “Grab a bite to eat. Let someone wait on _you_ for a change.” Playfully, he nudged Donghun’s arm.

“Yeah.” Donghun wrestled down the flutter in his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Okay. You sure you’re okay? You’re gonna be alright by yourself this afternoon?”

“Yeah.” Donghun pushed back a strand of hair, nodding to reassure him. “Yeah, I’m absolutely fine, I promise.”

“Okay. I’ll come back at say, six?” Junhee got up, gathered his documents from the adjacent table and pulled on his backpack. He walked to the door, brushing fingers through his dark hair. “Oh, and Donghun? Tonight, or… any other time we make a plan, if we do… If you feel you need to take a rain check at any time… You can take one whenever you need, okay? There’s never any pressure.”

For a moment, Donghun was struck dumb by his kindness. He nodded, and then paused, and then jogged across the café. He wrapped his arms around Junhee in a quick hug, catching him by surprise.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” Junhee’s hand came to rest very lightly on his back. “Thank you for trusting me with your story.”

Donghun pulled back, searching his face. When Junhee smiled, he did too.

“See you at six.”

Donghun watched Junhee leave, waving as he shot a smile back over his shoulder. Early afternoon sunlight poured in through the window, bringing with it the fresh breezes of Seoul and distant birdsong. He turned on his playlist and went back to his varnishing, lost in thought, but suddenly feeling lighter than he had done in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst blister has popped...
> 
> Thank you as always for reading - it means so much to me. This chapter was a hard one to get right, and I really hope you liked it.
> 
> And a PSA: condoms expire! Poppers expire (really quickly)! PrEP expires! Do not keep them in your drawer for years! (Sycamore Street Donghun knows this, he’s just being weirdly sentimental about his sex products, but he’s a smart guy and will eventually throw them away). Always check your packets - and if in doubt, throw them out.
> 
> See you soon - the next chapter's a fun one!
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly
> 
> [Find me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/IndiDragonfly)


	9. Bingsu

Donghun tied his hair up. Then he took it down. Then he tied it back up again.

He sighed, chewing his lip and staring into the mirror like it might eventually relent to his indecision and give him an opinion. But no miraculous response was forthcoming, so he decided to stick with the opinion of a customer who had come in a little tipsy a few months ago: _your hair looks sexy when you wear it down._ He tucked it behind his ears and gave his appearance a final appraising look.

A loose-fitting pair of blue painted pants that had cost him more than he was willing to admit to anyone. A black, short-sleeved Gucci shirt over a white t-shirt. He’d put a lot of effort into looking effortless. But he had to look right: this was Junhee he was meeting – well-dressed, fashion-savvy Junhee – and it was the first date he’d been on in, well, _ages_.

Okay, second date, actually, if dinner the other night had counted. After spilling all his secrets about his shameful past, meeting Junhee for dinner before opening work had felt like a welcome return to normality between them. It had been so nice, and so easy, now that he knew Junhee understood why he didn’t like to rush things. It had been just like the nights they’d spent talking in the café, and he’d found himself smiling and laughing a lot more than usual. Nothing had happened, of course – he’d just gone back to the café to work, but it was more than enough. And the fact Junhee had been messaging him ever since was a cherry on top.

But the point still stood that he hadn’t been on a date, a proper date, in a very long time. He frowned, picking up his keys and wallet. Come to think of it, had he _ever_ been on a proper date? He must have done, surely… But all he could think of now were friends becoming more-than-friends, or guys in clubs becoming guys in his bedroom for a few hours, or online profiles becoming a couple of drinks before getting down to what they both knew they were there for.

Donghun finally reached a stage when looking in the mirror any longer would do nothing but drive him insane, and he headed on his way.

It was a short subway ride to where he was meeting Junhee – at a big park he’d never been to before. However, the journey was just about long enough for butterflies to set up camp in his belly, and they fluttered outrageously as he shielded his eyes from the sun and caught sight of Junhee sitting on a wall waiting.

He was looking down at his phone, completely oblivious – and it was for the best, because Donghun couldn’t stop staring. His hair was tucked back in a beanie, a colourful striped shirt French-tucked into tailored shorts. A pair of glasses were perched on his nose, and he pushed them up as he looked up and spotted Donghun. His face split into a smile and he raised a hand to wave.

_Don’t stare at his legs. Don’t stare at his legs…_

Or stare at his legs like he’d never seen a pair before. That worked too.

“Hey! You found it.” Junhee stood up and bounced on the spot. “Even with that terrible sense of direction you’ve told me about.”

“Trust me, there’s a reason I bought the apartment directly above my workplace,” Donghun grinned, excruciatingly aware of the way Junhee’s eyes glanced over his outfit before returning to his face. “But even I can follow a subway line.”

“I’m so proud,” Junhee teased, shouldering his denim tote and starting off down the path with Donghun in step. “I-” He stopped as Donghun went to speak at the exact same time. “Sorry, you go.”

“I, er, was just going to say. You look great.” Donghun felt a little warm, and it wasn’t just the pleasant Seoul sunshine. He glanced at Junhee. “Sorry. What were you going to say?”

Junhee smiled, looking away over the park. “I was going to say the exact same thing to you.” His gaze returned to Donghun – god, it really _was_ getting warm around here? – and his smile widened. “Just a little daytime Gucci, hm?”

“What can I say.” Donghun feigned nonchalance, shielding his eyes and looking over the park. “I’m expensive.”

Junhee snorted. “Noted.”

When Junhee had suggested his plan for today, Donghun has been overcome with how damn cute it was. Perhaps he really _hadn’t_ ever been on a proper date, because he swore boys had only ever asked him out to somewhere they could drink enough Dutch courage to get dirty in bed. They definitely hadn’t asked him to come roller-skating.

“I’m so excited!” Junhee sat on the grass beside the tarmac, tugging on the laces of the skates he had borrowed from the rental booth. Kids and couples around them skated together, laughing and chasing one another. “I run here sometimes and I always see people skating, but none of my friends ever want to come.”

“Glad to be your guinea pig,” Donghun grinned, hopping to his feet in his own skates and turning back to Junhee.

He was about to keep talking, but the recreation of Bambi happening in front of him stopped him in his tracks. Junhee was suddenly all legs, his hand jerking out to grab the lamppost next to him. He giggled – that high pitched, happy sound that still made Donghun wonder how on earth he’d ever thought ‘Double Espresso’ was some kind of moody introvert.

“Wait,” Donghun said, raising an eyebrow as Junhee wobbled precariously. “You _have_ skated before… right?”

“No…”

“Ice-skated..?”

“No… Wah!” Junhee tried to let go of his lamppost lifeline and only managed to trip and spin in a worryingly wobbly circle.

Donghun burst out laughing. Junhee grinned himself, flipping him a middle finger as he struggled to stay upright. “I thought you’d suggested it because it was something you were good at! Like… to show off!”

“Oh… No.” Junhee stayed still, arms and legs extended like the faintest breeze could knock him down. “Like I’d ever pull off something cool like that.” He laughed, edging his skates closer together. “Have you?”

“Yeah, me and my friends used to roller-skate back home as kids.” Donghun pushed back his blonde hair. “And we still go to the ice rink in winter.” He paused. “Here. Loosen up a little. If you go all stiff, you’re more likely to fall over.”

“Oh I’ll definitely be falling over.”

“Okay so just… gentle pushes.” Donghun skated next to Junhee, watching his wobbly attempts to make his skates work with his body instead of against it. Despite his absolutely ineptitude, he wore a happy grin, one that split wider into giggles every time he nearly fell.

A few laps of the park later, Junhee was looking slightly – _slightly_ – less precarious.

“I think I’ve got it!” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “So can you skate properly? That’s not fair, how come you’re good at it?”

“Practice.” With a smug smile, Donghun skated in front of him, turning to face him and effortlessly skating backwards. Junhee stared at his feet in outrage, wobbled, and tripped forward. Donghun grabbed his arms and helped steady him.

“Teach me,” Junhee whined, looking upset at the injustice. “I wanna be cool like you…”

Donghun laughed. “You’re doing great for your first time.” He glanced over his tense limbs. “Just lower your centre of gravity, bend your knees a little.” Junhee looked at him blank, and Donghun hesitated. “Here. I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall.”

Pushing away the little voice of nervousness, he put his hands on Junhee’s waist to steady him. For a second, Junhee tensed more, but then he smiled and relaxed into an easier posture.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Donghun nodded, his hair blowing in his face. “It’s always hard at first. You’ve got to relax to get better, but it’s hard to relax _before_ you get better.”

He guided Junhee carefully, until all the nervousness in his face was replaced with lip-bitten determination. Donghun let go, and his posture stayed as it was.

“Thank you, teacher,” Junhee teased with a grin as Donghun returned to his side. “This is fun.”

“It is.” Donghun felt his lips tugging upwards. “Thanks for making me feel super cool… compared to you.”

“Hey!” Junhee shoved him and Donghun cackled. As he returned to skating beside him, his fingers bumped against Junhee’s. His heart practically burst out of his chest as Junhee nervously slipped their hands together. Donghun looked up and smiled, and Junhee returned it, all warmth and happiness.

When their legs started to protest from the exertion, they handed back their skates and walked across the grass to a bingsu stall with a bright pink banner. Junhee’s eyes lit up.

“Caramel banana!” He looked at Donghun gleefully. “I gotta try that.”

Donghun pulled a face, eyes twinkling. “Gross.”

“Oh yeah? What are you having?”

“Red bean. Obviously.”

Junhee rolled his eyes. “I might be gross, but at least I’m not _basic_.” He grinned and dodged Donghun’s swipe.

With bingsu bought – Donghun raised an eyebrow at Junhee’s little sugary feast – they found a spot in the park beneath a blossoming cherry tree to relax their tired legs. Donghun watched Junhee’s eyes light up in delight as he took his first taste of his treat.

“Oh this is good!” He looked ecstatic, and Donghun eyed his choice curiously.

“Can I try some?”

“Oh, _now_ you want to try.” Junhee grinned and held it out, and shamelessly swiped a large spoonful of Donghun’s in return. “Mm, it’s good, but it’s not sweet enough.”

“You’ve got a real sweet tooth for someone who drinks his coffee neat, black and sugarless.”

“That’s _fuel_ , that’s different.” Junhee swivelled to lie on his belly, and Donghun leaned back against the tree. “And I’ll only drink it like that when it’s good quality coffee.”

“Why, thank you,” Donghun replied with a flourishing little bow. He paused, feeling suddenly coy. “Actually, I made you something. Another snack. Um. If you’d like.”

He felt his ears go warm as Junhee looked at him in surprise, and he busied himself rummaging through his backpack. He took out a little tin covered in cartoon cupcakes and offered it out, avoiding the lingering look Junhee gave him as he accepted it.

“It’s espresso cake,” Donghun explained as Junhee removed the lid, revealing two slices of densely dark loaf. “You always order espresso… and this is a recipe I’ve refined for years. And it’s dairy-free,” he added quickly, looking up at Junhee. “I-I remember you said you’re lactose intolerant, so I made it without any dairy stuff…”

Junhee gave him a long, soft look.

“Can I try it now?” he asked, and barely waited for Donghun to nod. He took a curious bite, and then his entire face lit up. “Fuck! This is so good!”

“Ah… I’m glad.” He shook his head as Junhee offered him the second piece. “It’s for you. You can take it home.”

“You’re… very, very sweet.” Junhee smiled, and Donghun’s butterflies began to flutter in earnest once again.

“And you’re… messy.” Donghun leaned forward and brushed away a droplet of melting bingsu on Junhee’s chin with his thumb. “How’s the music you were working on last night?”

“Oh! Yeah, really good.” Junhee nodded enthusiastically. “I thought about coming to work on it in Sycamore Street but… You know. I didn’t know if it might be overkill.” He smiled sheepishly. “Don’t want to get under your feet…”

“What? No! You can come by any time… I’d like you to.”

Junhee smiled. “Wanna listen to what we came up with?”

He beckoned to Donghun and handed him one headphone as he joined him lay on his front. Junhee’s signature laid-back pop melodies drifted over him, now completed with a vocal that wasn’t his own. Donghun listened to the words – all clever extended metaphors and adroit rhymes, the ebb and flow of chords like a sea shanty dedicated to some whimsical romance.

“Whose voice is this?” Donghun asked, pressing the headphone in closer so make sure he didn’t miss a single line.

“That’s Baek. My best friend.” Junhee accepted the headphone back as the song finished. “He’s amazing, isn’t he? Those are his lyrics, too.”

“How’d two best friends manage to both end up so talented?”

Junhee laughed. “That’s sweet of you. Really though, what I do it pretty easy, to be honest. Writing music is formulaic. There’s a science to it. But Baek’s lyrics… You can’t learn that.” Junhee picked a daisy and played with it. “You’re born with that kind of gift.”

“Well you write lyrics too… Plus there _is_ a skill in writing music.” Donghun leaned on one elbow. “But I do know what you mean – it sounds like he’s one hell of a musician.”

“One hell of a guy. We made friends in high school… Actually, back then, Baek was a girl.” Junhee paused, then frowned. “Wrong wording. He’s always been a guy. But you… you get what I mean. He hadn’t come out as trans yet. He got picked on really bad, and his family didn’t get it – still don’t – and things were just really tough for him. But things got better, slowly, and music has always been his solace.”

“That’s pretty incredible of him to turn it into art like that.” Donghun watched Junhee curiously, his chest warm at the way he spoke about his best friend. He thought about Makoto’s boyfriend Mirae, and all the difficulties he had faced during his transition. “That can’t have been easy for him, coming out if his family didn’t accept him?”

“It wasn’t. And it wasn’t even just his family.” Junhee rolled onto his back, looking at Donghun as he continue to twirl the daisy between his thumbs. “Like it’s tough enough being gay, but I feel like I had it easy compared to Baek. Even people who were outwardly on his side would do weird shit like… ask if he’d had surgery.” Junhee pulled a face. “Like that’s any of their goddamn business!”

“Right. I’m not walking up to those people and asking if their balls are the same size, or whether they wax their ass. Why would anyone ever ask about someone else’s genitals?”

Junhee looked at him with a raised eyebrow and spluttered laughing. “Well quite.” He shook his head. “It’s not even just that, it’s like… not all trans people choose to have gender-affirming surgery. Some do, and some have some of it… But some don’t at all. Like... Baek was always a man. Whether he has surgery or not doesn’t make him any more or less of a man. Transitioning isn’t playing a video game – you don’t have to 100% complete a set of tasks and get your platinum trophy at the end to say you’re now officially a new gender. Everyone is who they are, and it’s up to them to decide on how they want their body to feel.” Junhee smiled. “Anyway, summary of all this is… Baek is great. I’m lucky to have him.” He looked over at Donghun. “Who’s your best friend?”

“Well, Boreum would say it’s her; Akira would say it’s him.” Donghun picked a dandelion, and gently blew its seeds into the breeze. “I met Boreum in school, our moms were friends. Akira and I met at that godawful corporate office job I told you about. We bonded in the trenches.”

“What were you like as a kid?”

“Shy. So shy.” Donghun laughed. “How about you?”

“Awful.” Junhee’s eyes widened and Donghun looked up in surprise. “Smashing windows. Running around naked. Bunking off after-school clubs to go to arcades.”

A laugh burst out of Donghun. “Wait, back up. Running around naked?!”

“Yeah! As a little kid. I just loved being naked and running down the street.” Junhee grinned, his dark hair starting to creep its way out from under his beanie.

“Are you still in the habit?” Donghun teased.

“Can’t say I’ve done it in a few years, but you never know after a few drinks…”

They lay on the grass and talked until the afternoon melted into evening and the once warm day grew chilly with the amber turn of the sky.

“Suppose you’re going to need to get going to get back and open up shop?” Junhee asked as he glanced at the time on his phone.

“Yeah.” Donghun looked at the evening sky above them and shivered. “Plus it’s getting cold…”

“Don’t you have a jacket?” Junhee glanced at Donghun’s outfit. “I live just around the corner – I still have your jumper. You can stop off on your way to the subway and get it if you need?”

Donghun smiled. “Okay. Only to stop your reign as a jumper thief.”

Junhee’s apartment was in a neat block of new-builds, nestled at the top on the fourth floor. Setting sunlight was filtering in through the double doors to a balcony as Junhee let them in, and Donghun lingered inside the front door.

“It’s here somewhere…” Junhee thought aloud, and then grabbed the jumper from the back of a chair at the pine dining table. “Here.”

Donghun accepted it with a creeping smile. Had he kept it out because he was too lazy to hang it up? Or… because he’d been wearing it?

“This place is insanely nice,” he commented instead, choosing to spare Junhee’s embarrassment by refraining from asking the question.

“Well, journalism may not be my dream, but it pays the bills.” Junhee smiled and hovered in front of Donghun, hands in pockets. “Thanks for today, Donghun. I had a lot of fun with you.”

“Yeah, me too.” Donghun smiled shyly. Suddenly unsure of what to do with himself, he glanced through the open door to his right. He raised his eyebrows. “Wait, is that your music studio?”

“Oh, yeah! Wanna see?”

Suddenly all excited, Junhee led him through into the small room filled with kit, instruments and a leather sofa scattered with sheets of music, talking at a hundred miles an hour about what everything was. Donghun smiled as he listened to him light up about his passion, and ran his fingers over the dark wood of Junhee’s piano.

“Would you play something for me?”

Junhee stopped and turned to look at him. “Uh… I wouldn’t bore you like that.” He laughed self-effacingly. “Some other time.” His grin grew mischievous. “That way you have to come back.”

“Oh, I see.” Donghun laughed. “Well… I think I can manage that.”

Junhee nodded, watching him, and then even Donghun’s most vicious inner demons couldn’t drag him back any longer. He gave Junhee’s sleeve a gentle tug, and pulled him into a kiss.

It was there again: that special way Junhee melted into their kiss, like all his tension and worries evaporated like dew drops in summer. His body went pliant, welcoming Donghun to pull him in closer, and his delicate hands reached up and skated over Donghun’s jaw.

“Hey,” Junhee murmured, pulling back with his dark eyes fixed on Donghun’s lips. “Is this definitely okay for you?”

Donghun nodded, filled with certainty. This was different. This time he was prepared. This time he knew Junhee _knew_. “Yeah.” He paused. “Is it okay for you?”

“Yeah.” Junhee broke into a smile, and tucked back a strand of Donghun’s hair behind his ear, before leaning in to kiss his bottom lip.

There were boys who kissed badly; there were boys who kissed good; and there were boys who kissed _great._ Donghun had forgotten how it felt to kiss the latter – in part because, well, he hadn’t kissed anyone in ages. But also because not many boys knew to kiss slow, and firm, and catch his lower lip oh-so-gently between their teeth for just a fraction of a second before smiling against his mouth. Not many of them were patient, waiting to feel the moment all the hairs on his arms stood up on end before teasing gently with their tongue, and then deepening their kiss with an arm looped around Donghun’s little waist to pull every part of him in closer.

Junhee drew back then, eyes searching Donghun’s face as he cupped his jaw with both hands. Donghun was immobilised, looking helplessly at him, rooted still by the intensity of his gaze.

When Junhee leaned back in, Donghun took a step back with him, and then another, and pulled gently on his shirt as they sank back onto the sofa. Junhee curled his legs up underneath him, letting out a quiet sound as Donghun cupped his hips to bring him closer. He kept his hold on him, all the while their kiss got more passionate. Junhee laid his hands on Donghun’s chest, and those little noises escaped them both in the moments they snatched a breath.

Donghun only stopped to move to Junhee’s neck.

Junhee’s hands took fistfuls of his shirt then, instantly tilting his chin up to give Donghun better access. He kissed down to his collarbone, running one hand along the exposed skin of one calf. Junhee twitched.

“Donghun…” he murmured, and it was somewhere between cautionary and desperate.

Donghun pulled back, heavy-lidded. Junhee met his eyes, then glanced down for _just_ a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for Donghun to follow his gaze to the hard swell at the front of his shorts. Donghun’s clothing might not have left him quite so exposed, but the sight did nothing to slow him down from going in the same direction.

Donghun ran circles on Junhee’s thigh with three fingers, looking for his consent. Junhee shifted position and opened his legs just a fraction.

Donghun kissed him again as he cupped his palm between Junhee’s legs, kneading gently with the inside of his thumb. Junhee whined against his mouth, his fingers carding through Donghun’s hair. Gently, in no rush, Donghun prised open the button of his shorts and slid down the zipper, stopping to caress, to rub, as he took Junhee out and wrapped his fingers around him tight.

Junhee broke their kiss with a gasp, leaning back on his hands and looking down at Donghun’s hand with lips parted. He swallowed visibly, and reached out a hand to touch Donghun in return. He paused at the waistband of Donghun’s pants, and Donghun met his eyes. He gave a small shake of his head.

Instantly, Junhee withdrew his fingers, eyes full of understanding.

That would come. But for now: one step at a time. Donghun didn’t want to push himself into something that could make him spiral, not when he knew how touching himself could herald in his anxiety. No… One thing at a time.

“Oh fuck…” The words left Junhee in a rush of breath as Donghun shifted to lie between his spread legs, planting a long, firm kiss on his thigh. Junhee rearranged his position, lying back on his elbows and watching with his lip bitten as Donghun licked up the length of his cock and slipped his mouth around it.

Donghun had missed this. Not just because of the pulsing pleasure in his own groin, or the ego boost of drawing out dirty sounds from a mouth that couldn’t hold them back. Because sex was _fun_ , pure and simple. Fun, and natural, and a joy. It wasn’t fair that something so wonderful had been stolen from him and twisted into something dark, by someone who had walked away unscathed. He met Junhee’s eyes as a hand twisted into his blonde hair, and let out his own groan of pleasure.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re good at that…” Junhee’s leg twitched involuntarily, and Donghun smiled around his mouthful. “It feels so good…”

The unfurling little thrill that bloomed in Donghun’s chest was unexpected. Like origami, it unfolded into its original form – something he used to feel, used to enjoy. Junhee’s praise might have been simple, but after so long in a forgotten place, he felt a shiver of excitement race down his spine. It was what he wanted, _craved_ , more than anything – to be told he was good. To have someone stoke his hair and tell him what a good boy he was. A dynamic, a kink stolen away from him – and one he only now realised he had the power to claim back.

He closed his eyes, focussing on nothing but Junhee’s shape, and taste, and the way different experiments with his tongues and lips made him moan or shudder. And the anxiety he had so _dreaded_ would interfere in a moment like this – it didn’t rise up. Junhee’s touch, his murmured words of encouragement and approval, it grounded him and kept him in the present.

Two fingertips eventually hooked under Donghun’s chin. With reluctance he rose up, accepting the kiss Junhee pulled him into.

“Why did you stop me?” he whispered, and Junhee stroked back his hair with a faint smile.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” Junhee murmured in response, and Donghun raised an amused eyebrow.

“That’s… kind of the point.”

Junhee snorted, taking a fistful of Donghun’s hair and giving his head a playful shake. “Brat.”

Fuck, if Junhee only knew the way that gesture made the entire room spin deliciously around Donghun. _More_ , he wanted to ask – but it wasn’t the time for that. Slow and steady. One step at a time.

Instead, he returned to his place between Junhee’s thighs. He felt a moment’s gratitude to him – Junhee had actually stopped him, warned him, instead of prioritising his own pleasure and assuming unspoken that Donghun wanted a throat-full.

Which he did.

Junhee stayed propped on his elbows as gasps began to gather in his throat, choking him into uncontrolled sounds. Donghun met his gaze, and held it, right to the moment Junhee tipped over the edge, and all the time he clutched his nails into Donghun’s shoulder and shuddered with his climax.

“ _Fuck…_ ” Junhee let out something between a sigh and a squeak, and Donghun couldn’t help but break into a grin as he wiped his lips and tucked back his hair. Junhee stared at him, a slow smile finding its way onto his face as he rebuttoned his shorts and then reached for Donghun and pulled him to lie with him.

He kissed him for a long, languid minute. When they broke apart, Junhee watched his face, playing with his long hair with gentle fingers.

“That was amazing. You’re amazing. _Jesus.”_ Junhee broke into another giddy smile and Donghun grinned smugly. “You feeling okay?”

It was a question asked with such tenderness, Donghun almost couldn’t bring himself to look at Junhee’s gentle eyes. He nodded.

“Yeah.” He played with Junhee’s shirt. “I’m feeling more than okay.” He glanced up. “I… really appreciate you checking in with me.”

“Of course.” Junhee pressed a soft kiss onto his forehead. “You’re the most important thing.”

Donghun would think about those words for days to come. They would make him break into a smile at random moments during the day, and they’d drift through his mind as he lay in bed at night. But for now, he sat up, and looked at the clock with a grimace.

“I really don’t want to leave… But I am totally late to get back to the shop.”

Junhee chuckled. “Well you got what you came here for.” He paused as Donghun looked at him in surprise. “Your jumper?”

“Oh yeah. That.” Donghun grinned as he got to his feet. He picked up his things from the corner and pulled the jumper over his head. “Today was… really great, Junhee.”

“Yeah. It was.” Junhee smiled warmly and followed him to the front door. “Message me when you get home?”

“Of course.” Donghun paused, and then accepted the sweet kiss from Junhee before reluctantly heading off to get the subway.

Once back at his apartment, he took the steps two at a time, already unbuttoning his shirt. Damn, he was late – but as if he could bring himself to care. He grinned, head spinning with cartoon stars, and stripped off his shirt to find something for work. Hae meowed quietly from her bed, and he bounced over, face plastered with a silly grin.

“Hae-eeeeeee,” he cooed, scooping her up and swinging her into the air. “I sucked Double Espresso’s dick!”

He giggled to himself in sheer, unabashed excitement, like the whole day was finally catching up to him. He laughed as Hae gave him a perturbed look as he danced her around the apartment.

And of course, it was far more than that – sure, the intimacy was nice, and good god was it a step towards a normality he had, for a long time, thought was impossible. But the entire day – the laughter, getting to know each other, just being around Junhee in the quiet moments between conversations… It had been perfect.

He went to open up the café with a heart bursting with possibilities for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're so soft, I just wanna tug their cheeks...
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little date chapter! It was our first venture outside of Sycamore Street, I hope you enjoyed the little bingsu-rollerskating treat. I really enjoyed writing it - I've spent a lot of time daydreaming about these two's dynamic when I ~should~ have been working...
> 
> Those of you who follow me on Twitter will know that finding time to write this was a struggle when I've spent 3646657475 hours this week absorbed in Genshin Impact, and now I've committed to sewing a Paimon-Xiao-Aether cosplay set for my boyfriend's baby's fifth birthday/am spending multiple hours a day arguing with him over who gets to be Aether (it's me. It's obviously me. Short kings who barely speak RISE :3). Anyway I will do my very best to step away from the sewing machine long enough to get the next chapter out as soon as possible!
> 
> Thank you as always for reading.
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly
> 
> [Find me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/IndiDragonfly)


	10. Red Wine

Donghun wasn’t used to _mornings_.

He stood behind the counter, eyes vacant, hair frazzled underneath his beanie, his americano going cold in his hand. He shook himself out of his microsleep and took a sip, hoping that lost sleep could be found in the bottom of his cup.

He’d been bad at getting up at the best of times, but the café meant his regular bedtime was four in the morning – and it had been a _long_ time since he was up, dressed and behind the counter for 10am. Add to that that this was Monday, his one and only day off… But the excitement of the young kids in front of him was almost enough to make it worth it.

When three kids had bounced into Sycamore Street a couple of weeks ago and asked if they could borrow the space for a ‘coffee sleeve event’, his first reaction had been confusion. A coffee sleeve what now..? The tall girl – clearly the leader of their little pack – had explained that fans of idol groups held events in cafes for their favourite stars’ birthdays, a place where fans could come along, sign books, collect freebies, and meet other super-fans. Donghun had found the whole thing amusing – the lengths teenagers would go to for a singer.

But he was far from begrudging of their happiness – today, they were all dressed up, filling the room with photos of some extremely handsome boy with purple hair, and he couldn’t help but smile at them. It was harmless fun, and he could only imagine the ego-boost of having his picture strung up by adoring fans. Imagine that.

Donghun served coffee as people came in and out – mainly young women, all giggly and shy. He found himself making a lot more iced vanilla lattes than he could remember making in his life – was this the trend with kids now?

“It’s Seongie’s favourite drink,” a particularly hyped young woman blurted at him as she ordered, eliciting titters from her friends.

“Oh?” Donghun smiled, topping her drink with cream. “Is that why you like it? So you can match?”

“Yes!” The girl beamed, slurping her latte. “He has the best taste in everything.”

Donghun watched them with an eyebrow raised as they took what had to be a hundred selfies in the café and collected coffee sleeves and homemade polaroid photos. As they left, he found himself hoping that they had a nice day.

As the event went on, he noticed that one of the three organisers tended to hang back. He had a mask around his chin, that occasionally went up over his nose, and he didn’t seem to chat to the other fans as much.

“You having fun?” Donghun leaned on the counter with a smile as the boy returned his cup with a small bow. Kangho, had he said his name was? His bangs fell right into his dark eyes, and Donghun sensed a cloying shyness in them.

“Yeah, thank you for having us, Mr Lee.”

“Just Donghun is fine.” He paused, watching Kangho fiddle with his sleeves. “You know… I get really shy around customers too.”

Kangho looked up fretfully, and nodded once. Donghun thought he was going to say no more, and planned to leave him in peace, when-

“I worry they don’t want me here.”

“Hm?” Donghun peered at him. He kept his voice gentle. “How come?”

Another pause, and Kangho slid onto a stool, keeping his eyes down. “’Cause I’m a boy.”

“Because you’re..?” Donghun glanced at the two other hosts. “Your friends?”

“No! No, they’re my best friends. They’re okay with me. It’s…” Kangho trailed off and glanced at a group of girls who had just entered, all of them with long sheets of hair and cute outfits.

Donghun’s heart gave a twinge.

He knew that feeling all too well: occupying a space that didn’t feel like it was for you. Boys in girls’ spaces, girls in boys’ spaces, people of different colours or races in communities where they didn’t feel welcomed… The fact that the ‘spaces’ were fabricated, that anyone can belong anywhere that makes them happy – Donghun knew it didn’t help when it was you in that place. And he knew it was all the worse when you were sixteen years old.

“You know,” Donghun said, walking around the counter and taking one of the free stools. They both sat facing out to the café, watching the others. “Just because you’re a guy, doesn’t mean they don’t want you here.” He smiled. “I’m sure lots of girls think it’s cool to have a male friend into their favourite group.”

“Maybe…”

“And hey, I’m sure S… Seongie? I’m sure he would be glad to have you as a fan.”

Kangho looked away, sinking further into his turtleneck jumper. “I don’t think I’d want to find out.”

Donghun watched him carefully. “What do you mean?”

“Well… One time I got into a fan-sign. Like when they let in a hundred fans and you get to sit and talk to each member for a minute and they sign something for you. It’s really hard to get in and at first I was really excited.” Kangho sighed. “But I had a panic attack the day before and I couldn’t bring myself to go. I emailed the company and they contacted the person next in line.”

Donghun looked at him sadly. “How come you felt so nervous?”

“Because… Because I was worried being a guy would make the group uncomfortable. I know everyone says it wouldn’t-” he added as Donghun began to gently protest. “And no group would ever say it openly. They say they love all their fans. But… But… At fan-signs, they sit and hold fans hands and stuff, and it’s a lot of fanservice.” Kangho laughed a little. “What if Seongil was uncomfortable? What if he hated me? What if he didn’t want to hold my hand?”

Donghun was the youngest in his family, but he suddenly felt like a protective older brother. Oh, how this made his heart _ache_. He wanted to protect Kangho, tell him that his favourite singer would love him… but he also knew that if he was in the same position? He’d honestly feel the same. And that was what made him so sad.

“Surely they’re used to male fans in this day and age?” he tried, and Kangho gave half a smile.

“Sure, there’s some… But not compared to the rows and rows of girls.” As if on cue, another pair of pretty women in their twenties came in, greeting the other hosts with all the outgoing confidence in the world. “And no matter what, people always assume fans have crushes on their favourite idols. And, well… A lot of people still aren’t very nice to gay people here, a lot of even young people are homophobic and so what if…”

“What if… Seongil or the other members were homophobic?”

“Yeah.” A redness coloured Kangho’s cheeks. “I’m not accusing them. I don’t have a reason to think any of them are, nothing like that… I wouldn’t be their fan if there was…”

“…But in a world and a country where homophobia is still so commonplace, you just can’t know for sure?” Donghun finished gently. Kangho looked down, his mouth downturned, and nodded.

“I’d never forgive myself for making them uncomfortable. And if it was awkward and they didn’t like me… I’d be really sad.”

Donghun paused, and then put a gentle hand on Kangho’s shoulder. He looked up.

“For what it’s worth?” he said quietly. “Any idol should be honoured to have a fan like you, who does all this.” He indicated the café event with a hand. “And if they weren’t? That’s their problem, kid, not yours.” He smiled. “Chin up.”

Kangho smiled, still hiding inside his turtleneck. “Thank you.”

After their talk, Kangho slipped away once more to be amongst his friends, and Donghun got back to serving endless iced lattes. At the end of the event in the mid-afternoon, the three hosts cleared up, presenting him with bows and thank-yous as they headed off with their own free drinks, singing some new solo song from their favourite star.

Oh, to be young.

Donghun cleaned down the café and closed up, stretching his tired arms as he went home to enjoy the rest of his day off. He cleaned up and changed, and found himself anxiously watching the clock.

He bounced up as soon as the doorbell rang.

“Hey.” Junhee tilted his head with a smile as Donghun opened the door, sunglasses on his head and a half-finished drink in his hand. Donghun feigned a dramatic gasp.

“Are you cheating on me with another coffee shop?!” he teased, and Junhee smirked at him as he came inside. “How could you?”

“It’s not as good as yours…” he pacified as they went into the front room. “Plus, I like my coffee served by a hot, tattooed barista… This was a bit of a let down.”

“What a shame.” Donghun put his hands on his hips, pretending to think. “Where are you going to find one of those?”

“Oh, well there’s this hot guy at Starbucks in Hongdae Station…”

Donghun sat on the sofa and launched a cushion at Junhee, who laughed as it bounced off his head.

“Fine, go get your shitty Starbucks from your sexy barista…” He turned away in feigned annoyance, and Junhee sat next to him.

“Jealous?”

Donghun looked back as Junhee gave a smug grin, and felt his face go warm. He suddenly wasn’t quite sure how to greet him. Should they hug? Or kiss? Or… Or what? The last time he’d seen him, Donghun had given him head…

“Uh, I hope this isn’t too much… Can I say that I missed you?”

Donghun’s eyes shot up. Junhee gave something between a grin and an apologetic grimace, and Donghun just about turned to putty.

“Yeah… I missed you too.”

That exchange went a long way towards solving his uncertainty, and he smiled as Junhee caught up his lips in a gentle kiss.

Time always passed too quickly on days off, but today the clock seemed to be racing to reach night-time, as though Junhee’s presence tweaked the hours to be shorter than they ought to be. Donghun had been a fraction apprehensive about spending time inside instead of doing some ‘date’ activity like dinner or roller-skating, but he fast realised his worries were groundless. After all, they had first talked for hours and hours late into the night with nothing but a coffee for distraction.

And Junhee was easy to be around. He always seemed happy – never a trace of boredom nor discontent. They ordered some food, played video games, and talked, until the last daylight faded and got replaced by stars.

“Oh hey, Hae.” Donghun was careful not to trip over Hae as she wound through his legs while he fetched a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Junhee lit up at the sight of her as they re-entered the front room.

“Hi cutie!” He slinked down on the floor and held out a hand to Hae, delighting at her as she sussed him out with a sniff of a pink nose. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Hae.” Donghun raised an eyebrow. “She’s normally pretty aloof… Don’t know why she likes you so much.”

“It’s because I speak Cat.” Junhee mewed at her, and Hae wasted no time rubbing her head on his legs with a loud purr. “Ssh, don’t tell her I’m a dog-person.”

Donghun snorted softly, pouring two large glasses and handing one to Junhee as he joined him back on the sofa.

They just talked. About their days, about travelling, about fashion, about pets, about families… All the things that were little things and yet also the big things, all at once. Donghun was an introvert by nature, and if he’d have been asked a few weeks ago, he would have thought two people would always run dry of things to talk about after hours spent in one another’s company. But with Junhee, he always had one more question, one more quip, one more story he wanted to tell.

They watched a movie while finishing their bottle of wine, and Donghun found himself edging closer to Junhee, until Junhee put an arm across his shoulders and pulled him in firmly. Donghun relaxed against him, curling his arm around Junhee’s waist.

“Oh, I was meaning to ask you,” he murmured as the film neared its end. “I hope you don’t mind. Are you bi? Or pan?”

“No, I’m gay.” Junhee was playing with Donghun’s hair; god, it felt nice. “Why’d you ask?”

“No reason, really. I just remember hearing a lyric in the first song of yours you showed me: _you’re the girl in my life_ or something. At the time, I thought you might be straight.”

“Oh, no.” Junhee laughed. “It’s just to make it more commercially _palatable._ Unfortunate that that’s a thing, but you get me.”

The credits rolled on the film, and Donghun sat up, pulling out the last of the hair that remained in his hair-tie. He paused, caught in a moment of hesitancy that was stretched out long by the silence.

“Um, do you want to stay?” he blurted eventually. “Like… stay the night?”

Junhee smiled at him. “Just to be clear, I wasn’t staying so late to try and get an invite.” He nodded happily and indicated his phone on the coffee table. “I’ve been planning to get a cab.”

“Yeah, I… I didn’t think you were. But I’d… I’d like you to. If you wanted to.” Donghun felt tongue-tied. “Not… I’m not propositioning you because… Well… I mean you know – even though last time I… I-”

“Donghun.” Junhee laughed quietly, taking his hands and looking into his face. “I know we’re taking this slow.” He tapped the end of Donghun’s nose. “But yeah, I’d love to stay and sleep here with you. I’d really love to. Can I… borrow a t-shirt to sleep in?”

“Yeah…” Donghun failed to fight a smile coming to his lips. “Fuck, you’re really sweet.”

Junhee smiled against his mouth as Donghun kissed him.

Donghun had never expected to be made to feel fifteen again, but the heightened self-consciousness that struck him now was annoyingly teenage. Donghun leant Junhee a t-shirt that came up way too big on him to wear anymore, and took the opportunity of his leaving to go wash up to change into a vest and slip under the covers. Jesus Christ, since when was he _this_ nervous about a guy seeing him in his boxers?!

Junhee returned fresh-face and smiled cat-like at the sight of Donghun reading an article on his phone in bed. There were fairy lights that threaded along the headboard and windowsill, and a veritable mountain of pillows and cushions scattered across the bed.

“Don’t you look cosy.” Junhee replaced his shirt with Donghun’s t-shirt, and slipped out of his jeans. Donghun held out his arms as he was joined in bed. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Even _this_ was enough to turn Donghun warm. Junhee slotted against him, pressing a kiss onto his shoulder. So chaste, so innocent, but this gorgeous boy in his bed..? Enough to make him physically burst into flames from the inside out.

The amber fairy lights reflected in Junhee’s eyes as he played with Donghun’s hands, looking for all the world like he was searching for every detail, every line and every freckle, and consigning them to memory. His thumb reached the keloid scars on Donghun’s wrist and he smiled, and then started tracing the first of the tattoos that began on his forearm.

“I’ve never been able to look at them properly before,” he murmured, forefinger mapping the pair of watercolour dice, the blooming waterlilies, the geometric fox, the black sketched umbrella. “Do they all have a meaning?”

“Kind of.” Donghun shifted and their legs knocked together. “Some are deeper than others. Some of them are just because they’re pretty.” That made Junhee smiled. “Do you have any?”

Junhee shook his head. “Not yet. I’d like some.”

He continued exploring, his faint touch following each swirl, each pattern, each petal up to Donghun’s shoulder like butterfly kisses. He paused, and then touched the top of the design that peeked out from the top of Donghun’s vest. “Can I-” He seemed to catch himself, and shook his head, withdrawing his hand.

“Can you see the others?” Donghun suggested. “…Yeah.”

He pulled down the material of his top to show his chest: the butterflies, leaves and feathers that swept across his skin on an unseen breeze. Just like the others, Junhee ran a thumb over these too, lips parted, like he was exploring an art gallery.

“You’re like a painting,” he whispered. “It’s beautiful.” His fingers skated down his chest, hesitating above one of Donghun’s nipple piercings. “Can I?”

Donghun nodded. Gently – so, so gently – Junhee played with the silver bar between finger and thumb, and Donghun forced back a shiver.

“So pretty…”

His hand traced back up, up his neck, and then clutched his jaw while he worked a deep kiss from Donghun’s mouth. The wet press of his lips, the tease of his tongue on the roof of Donghun’s mouth… It wasn’t _fair_ , and nor was the hand that stroked his waist, nor the knee that nudged between his legs.

“I…” Donghun broke free.

“Sorry, was it too much?”

“No, I-” Donghun looked into Junhee’s worried face. “No, I just really _fucking_ want to have sex with you.”

Junhee’s eyebrows shot up, and then he tipped back his head, a laugh bursting out and popping all the sexual tension like a dart. “Candid of you!”

“I…” Donghun went hot. “Sorry…”

“No, no…” Junhee stroked back his hair, still grinning. He cupped Donghun’s cheek. “I really want to have sex with you too. But not until you’re ready. And we can wait as long as you need to…”

“But you do want to?” Donghun knew there was a note of petulance in his own voice, and Junhee’s expression grew more muddled, caught somewhere between amusement and confusion.

“Yeah. Of course I do. I… I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No. You just… don’t have to treat me like I’m so fragile because of the way I am.” Oh, now he _knew_ he was being unreasonable. Junhee seemed to flail for an appropriate response. “Sorry. I know you’re treating me so well and being considerate and now I’m being stroppy about it.”

“It’s okay.” Junhee smiled again, rolling over and leaning on his chest. His grin widened. “You’re just an insufferable little brat, aren’t you?”

Donghun snorted. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one.”

“Oh?” Junhee raised an eyebrow. “Why does that not surprise me?” He looked down at Donghun. “You can tell me if I get any of this wrong. I don’t mean to make you feel… babied. I just want to make you feel safe.”

Donghun felt instantly terrible. He stroked Junhee’s cheek and then ran his hand through his hair. “You haven’t put a single foot wrong, and that’s honestly mind-blowing. Really.” He paused. “It’s just all so… frustrating. Everything in my head.”

He stopped, and Junhee waited patiently.

“Like I want to just be normal. I don’t want to be a… a _victim_. Like I honestly just wanna rip that t-shirt off you.” He looked down, ears hot. “But I know what happens when I feel anxious. And then I get anxious about the anxiety… which makes me anxious.” He snorted. “It’s the most fucked-up vicious circle.”

“I understand. But … You’ll get there. You will. You just don’t have to go from zero to a hundred, you know?” Junhee kissed his cheek. “And if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’ll do it.”

God, how the fuck was this man real.

“I guess… I guess I do appreciate you checking in with me, and letting me lead.” Donghun nodded against the pillow slowly. “And I don’t want that to stop. But also… I guess now we’re getting to know each other and we’ve created this safe space and… and I’ve sucked you off-” He grinned. “Maybe you don’t need to deflect away from anything smutty or… Yeah.” Donghun bit his lip, not sure he was expressing himself right. “I think I’m at a place where I can deal with that.”

Junhee curled a lock of Donghun’s hair around his fingers. “Soo… You’re saying that just because we’re not having sex yet doesn’t mean we can’t talk about what will send you crazy when we do.”

Donghun’s eyes snapped up. Suddenly it felt like the room had reduced to a vacuum around them. His heart beat harder. “I want that.”

Junhee’s lips curled upwards. “Hm. I’ll bare that in mind.”

Junhee was still leaned over him as they kissed, and Donghun relaxed under the gentle weight of having him over his chest. Junhee’s mouth was fast turning from strange novelty into somewhere familiar, with all the warmth that came with that. Donghun went to put his hands on Junhee, but-

Junhee pinned Donghun’s wrists above his head before he could even register it.

Donghun gave nothing short of a choked squeak. Junhee looked up at him, dark amusement in his eyes, the tip of his tongue caught between his smile.

“Mm, thought so.” He lazily slipped one leg over Donghun so he could lay straddled. “You give off such submissive energy.”

“I… Er… I… Yeah?” Oh, _god_. Words? What were words? How to speak..?!

“So, _hypothetically speaking_ ,” Junhee murmured close to his ear, and Donghun could just _hear_ the smug grin in his voice. “You’d want me to take control of y-”

“Yes.” Donghun’s face went hot as he answered far too quickly.

“Mm-hmm. You want me to make you submit to me and reward you if you’re a good boy?”

Donghun twitched, he physically _twitched_. Junhee looked into his face, still smiling and tracing circles on his chest with the hand that wasn’t pinning him down.

“I see I’ve struck a weak spot.”

Donghun lay helplessly on his back, watching Junhee kiss his collarbones, his shoulders. It was like a dizzy trip down the rabbit hole: the room faded away and he sank back into that headspace, the one he used to occupy and that welcomed his tentative return.

“Do you like being restrained?”

He nodded.

“Do you have a pretty collar you could wear for me..?”

Donghun nodded and squeaked at the nail that gently scratched down his throat.

“And do you have a favourite safeword we’ll use?” Junhee murmured, and Donghun shook his head. “Okay. Then it’s _crimson_. And rapid finger clicks if you can’t talk. You know… Just for the future.” Junhee’s delicious purr was like poison in his bloodstream, but it changed to a softer tone for a fleeting moment. “Or for now.”

Donghun nodded, meeting his eyes. He understood.

He understood his safe word – but more than that, he understood what Junhee was doing. Fuck, it would be sweet if it wasn’t so _sexy_. He might not be ready to _do_ any of these things – hell, going back to being a sub was a long way off when he couldn’t even masturbate without anxiety. But nothing at all stopped them from _talking_ about it. Exploring the things they wanted to do, when Donghun had healed enough to do them.

“What pleases you?” Donghun recognised that his own voice sounded choked, but it was because he felt like he could barely breathe in anticipation.

Junhee leaned close to his ear and began to tell him in slow, explicit detail.

Donghun’s head was spinning. This. This was what he wanted. Someone funny, smart, creative – even dorky – who turned him to a wreck in bed. Someone who treated him with care and affection just so he could be taken apart piece by piece. This perceptive, gorgeous man as his dominating, power-bottom boyfriend and _ah-!_

Donghun jerked his hips up, unable to stop himself reaching for friction.

Junhee immediately lowered to straddle him properly, and began to grind on him.

Donghun all but dissolved on the spot.

“Kiss me.” Junhee let go of his wrists and clutched his face instead as they found a rhythm, Junhee’s body working down and Donghun’s arching upwards.

Donghun didn’t want to be moaning into Junhee’s mouth; he didn’t want to be trembling; he didn’t want to be so easy but _damn it_ if he wasn’t aching and spinning out just from feeling Junhee pressing onto him through material. Junhee pulled away a little, planting his hands on Donghun’s chest so he could sit down on him more heavily, control his movements more. They locked eyes, and still Junhee spilled his verbal fantasies, filth dripping from his pretty mouth with ease.

“Nh… Junhee…”

“Yeah?”

“You’re… You’re going to make me…”

Junhee snorted softly, sitting up straight and working his hips in a way that was _criminal._ “How was it you put it..? Ah… ‘That’s the point’..?”

“But-”

But he was climaxing pathetically fast? But they were both still clothed? But this would make a real mess? A dozen ‘buts’ that got stolen from his throat as Junhee rode him harder, playfully teasing up his t-shirt to show off his abs and give Donghun a better view of the way his underwear stretched around his hard-

A gasp, a groan, a choke all muddled into one and burst from his lungs as he came undone.

No anxiety. Nothing. Closed eyes, empty head.

Junhee rolled his hips hard.

A second? An hour? Who fucking knew.

Donghun was _whimpering._

Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, headrush making him dizzy. He snatched his breath, totally blanked out. Over the top of him, Junhee leaned down with a smile, pressing a gentle kiss on his temple.

“Good boy.”

Jesus Christ.

He hated him. He loved him. No, Donghun, don’t open your mouth now, don’t try and form words. He just looked at Junhee, the afterglow all but burning from his hairline to his toes.

Junhee rested his head down next to Donghun’s on the pillow, looking up at him with affection. The way this boy could switch from softie to monster and back again was downright ludicrous.

“Go get cleaned up, you.”

Donghun nodded, still wordless. He slipped out of bed onto wobbly legs, showered quickly, and found fresh boxers and t-shirt to return to bed in. Junhee was snuggled back under the blanket, watching him as he crossed the room.

“Feel good?” he murmured as Donghun slid in beside him.

“So good.” That glow was now a deep, delicious warmth, and sleepiness was making his body heavy. “So, _so_ good.”

Junhee laughed quietly, pulling him into his arms and laying a kiss in the middle of his forehead. With a soft hand, he played gently with Donghun’s hair as his eyelids grew heavy.

On the cusp of sleep, in his arms, Donghun felt at peace. And, more important than that, he could see himself falling for this man.

~

Donghun peeled open one eye again and yawned. Across the room, Junhee was pulling on his socks, looking ungainly as he wobbled on one leg.

“You sure you don’t want me to make you some breakfast?” he said, propping himself up on one elbow. Junhee smiled and crossed the room to kiss him on top of his head.

“Totally sure. You stay in bed and get some rest before work later.” He stood up again, eyes watering with his own yawn. “I’ll grab coffee on the way to work, that’ll be enough for me.”

“You and your espresso.” Donghun snuggled back against his pillow. “You drink more caffeine than I do.”

“Hey, mornings are hard.” Junhee grinned. “It’s tough to wake up and get going at the wise old age of twenty-eight.”

Donghun didn’t think anything of it.

Then he frowned.

“Thirty-one.” He watched as Junhee turned around, looking confused.

“Huh? No, I’m twenty-eight.”

Donghun sat up slowly.

Suddenly, his heart was beating faster.

“You said you were born in 1991…” he said slowly. “So… thirty-one.”

Junhee met his eyes, and a slow flush of colour spread up his neck.

“I… I… Shit, did I?” He took a step closer and Donghun recoiled on instinct.

“Junhee. What year were you born in?”

“…1994.”

“Then why did you tell me you were born in ’91.” Donghun’s words crossed the room with a crackle of static. Junhee’s eyes grew round, searching his face.

“Donghun, I… Shit, I’m _so_ sorry. I don’t even remember, I-”

Something hot and horrible was rising fast up Donghun’s throat. “The first time we spoke, you said you were born in ’91. I know, because I remember being surprised you’re older than me. You’re thirty-one.”

The look in Junhee’s eyes was one of distilled distress. “I’m so sorry, I… I add a few years onto my age for work. People are more likely to hire a freelancer in his thirties, I… Donghun, I’m _so_ sorry, it was a habit, I-”

“You lied.” Donghun let out something between a bark of laughter and something far darker, far more desperate. “You _lied_ to me about something so integral of who you are? You started this relationship by _doing the one thing I needed you not to do-”_

“Please, I didn’t lie on purpose, I didn’t-”

“I trusted you!” Donghun’s high shout broke from his lips. His entire body was shaking, alive with anxiety manifesting. “I trusted you and you lied…”

“Please.” Junhee sat down on the edge of the bed; Donghun sat back like a viper had curled up onto his sheets. “Donghun, I swear to you, I didn’t mean to lie. It was a reflex and I… I was just a customer at the time. I didn’t know we’d end up getting to know each other like this. I didn’t think it would have a consequence. I-”

“No, of course you didn’t, because people like you never do!” Donghun’s eyes began to well up – the _traitors_. “You don’t think there’ll be a consequence of lying about one of the most basic things like your name or your age, you… You…”

“I… I’m so sorry. I know, it’s the absolute worst thing I could have done…” Junhee frantically searched his face. “But I… I bought you my documents, remember? If you’d have looked at them, you’d have seen! You’d have known I wasn’t deliberately lying, but you didn’t look at them-”

“Don’t you _DARE_ turn this on me!” Donghun’s eyes spilled. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get _out!_ ”

Junhee paused, frozen. And then he seemed to realise that he absolutely had to go. He backed away, tripping over his own feet as he left.

He’d lied. He’d lied to him, after hearing his story. After hearing about how hard it was for Donghun to trust again. After all that, being lulled into a false safe space, he had uncovered another lie. How many more were there? Who even was he?

After all that. After starting to unfurl his desires to him. After… After letting him touch his body that way…

It was hard to breathe. The air was thin.

He felt sick.

Junhee had lied.

He couldn’t process that, he couldn’t handle that.

It felt like being burned.

It felt like he was overreacting?

It felt like he was drowning.

Jennifer Moore.

His video, online. The comments. The views. Seeing his body used without his consent.

Donghun buried himself under his blanket and let the panic attack consume him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no...
> 
> Thank you so much for reading another chapter of our tale! I really hope you're enjoying it - and thanks so much for the kudos and comments, they really do encourage me. Fic-writing is extremely fun but also can be hard work - between planning, drafting and editing a chapter can take upwards of ten hours (I also stare into space a lot and think about food...) so getting your lovely comments really does make me keep on going! :3
> 
> Have a great weekend and keep healthy~
> 
> With love,  
> The Indigo Dragonfly


End file.
